Blood and Waters
by Karlandra
Summary: After losing everything Arya Stark gets a chance to go back to her eleven year old self and try and change things. But how much difference can an eleven year old girl really make? And will she make things better or worse? Arya/Gendry centric.
1. Chapters 1 - 5

Part 1:

Arya stood shaking before the Weirtree in the Gods wood at Winterfell. She was covered in blood, Jon's blood, the Night King had cut him down but somehow Ghost had gotten him through the gates. It had been too little too late. Ghost had taken him to the Weirtree and she had followed. Bran was there, Bran was always there. Jon had bleed out at the foot of the Weirtree. It was over, the many-faced god would have them all now.

"Arya!" Bran yelled, trying to bring her attention back to what he had been saying, it was the first time she had heard emotion in his voice in some time. "There is a way to change this, there is a way to go back, but it will cost blood."

Arya shook her head again, she couldn't do it. She looked at Sansa who was sobbing on the ground over Jon then back at Bran. "I can't."

He reached over to her and placed his hand over hers, placed their joint hands on the hilt of the Valyrian dagger, and made her unsheathe it. "We're dead anyway, you have too. You're the only one that can. Think clearly in your mind to which day that you need to go back to. You cannot stop me falling, that needs to happen, you cannot stop Jon from going to the wall either, his path must go that way. Choose a day after that, chose the place and time, remember the sights and smells. Think of who you were then. Give Sansa and me the gift that you were trained to give, then place your bloody hand against the tree. Make sure you bleed out slowly, the magic will need time. Either you will succeed or it won't matter."

Arya nodded slowly, she walked over to Sansa and wrapped her arms around her. Sansa lent into her arms and sobbed. "I love you." Arya whispered and slit Sansa's throat. She laid her gently across Jon's body. She walked up to Bran and he nodded. She killed him quickly and pushed him out of the chair so that the tree could get as much of his blood as possible. She stabbed herself in the gut, then lent against the tree and thought of the day that Mycah, the butcher's boy, had died. That was the first thing she needed to change. As she drifted out of consciousness she could hear the clashing of sticks and see the woods near the crossroads.

The world shifted and suddenly she was standing there with a stick in her hand, Mycah grinning at her as he struck. It was too unreal, too sudden, Mycah caught her off-guard and knocked the stick from her hand.

"I got you!" He exclaimed, "I actually got you!"

Arya nodded. She felt strange in her eleven year old body, she heard voices, Joffrey and Sansa, and suddenly knew what was about to happen. She snatched the stick out of Mycah's hand. "I can't play with you anymore."

Mycah looked hurt, he didn't understand. She ignored him and started walking away. She threw the stick away and ignored Sansa and Joffrey.

~~/~~

The days passed. Mycah lived and she stayed away from him. Lady lived and Sansa continued to believe that Joffrey was good. They reached Kings Landing and both Stark girls still had their direwolves. Arya withdrew from everyone, she became obedient and quite. She made Septa Mordane happy and her father worry. She spent most of her time alone in her room practicing with Needle. Eventually her father caught her, he let her keep the blade, just like last time. She gained her water dancing teacher, just like last time. She chased cats and overheard Varys, but unlike last time she didn't try to warn her father, instead she started following him.

~~/~~

They were on the street of Steel. Not the best part of Kings Landing, she knew she'd be in trouble if her father caught her, but this seemed important. She watched as her father walked back to the horses, listened as the man with him asked if he had found anything. Her father's answer caused all the air to suddenly escape from her lungs.

"King Robert's bastard son."

Was it Gendry? It had to be Gendry, he's just come out of a blacksmith's. She took a step backwards and knocked something over, causing her Father to turn and see her.

"Arya, what the hells are you doing out here?"

It was too late to be careful now. She ran straight past him, ducking under his arm and dodging his attempt to grab at her, and ran straight into the forge.

"Arya! What the hells are you doing! Get back here young lady!"

A man that she could only guess was Tobho Mott stood in her way, she drew needle, aiming it at his throat, and moved past him to get a better look at Gendry.

"And who are you?" Gendry asked gruffly.

She lowered her blade. "Arya Stark." She replied.

"Arya, get back here right this minute!" Her father yelled as he entered the forge. He looked at the scene and shook his head. "What the hells do you think you're doing?"

"He needs to know." Arya replied. She could fell the anger welling up in her and hated that she was this emotional little girl again, hated that nobody would believe what she knew. "He needs to know who his father is!"

Ned Stark's face softened. "Arya, we'll talk about this back at the keep."

Arya shook her head. "No, he needs to know. They're going to kill him, just like they killed Jon Arryn, just like they'll kill you." She could feel the tears streaming down her face now.

Ned crossed the space between them and knelt down in front of her. He lifted her chin up and made her look at him. "Nobody's going to kill me, I promise."

Arya shook her head. "You can't promise that! The Lannister's are going to kill you, and they're going to kill King Rob, and then they're going to hunt down every one of his black haired, blue eyed, bastards, including him." She pointed at Gendry. "Joffrey isn't his heir. He isn't the father of any of Cersei's children, Jamie is! That's what got Jon Arryn killed. Bran saw Cersei and Jamie together in the tower, Jamie pushed him out the window. He didn't fall. Bran never falls." She was full out sobbing now and she hated it.

Her father just looked at her in shock. "You really believe all this?"

Arya nodded. "We have to get out of Kings Landing, and we have to take him with us."

Ned sighed. "We'll talk about this when we get back to the keep, put your sword away."

Arya obeyed and Ned stood up. He placed his hand on her shoulder and started to lead her out.

"L-lord Stark." Gendry stuttered. "What she said, about my father, is it true?"

Ned nodded slowly. "Robert Baratheon is your father, but I suggest you keep that to yourself." He paused, as if considering if he should tell Gendry more. He looked down at Arya and then up at Gendry's pleading face and sighed. "You have an older sister in the Vale, named Mya Stone, she's under the protection of Lord Yohn Royce. I haven't seen her since she was a baby. You father is a good man, but he is not a good husband. I believe there are others here in King's Landing, and I believe Jon Arryn found them. I will find them too. I will do what I can to keep you all safe."

Gendry nodded slowly. "Thank you, Lord Stark." He turned to look at Arya. "Thank you, mi'lady." It was clear by the expression on his face that his whole world had just fallen apart.

Arya wanted to say something, to take the pain out of his eyes, but she didn't know how. As her father lead her away she looked back over her shoulder at him, he met her eyes then looked away. Arya lowered her head and wondered if she had helped or if she had only made things worse? Her father lifted her onto his horse, so that she was in front of him on the saddle, and she leant into him as they rode back to the Red Keep in silence.

~~/~~

It was a week and half after the Gendry incident. She had promised her father she wouldn't follow him again. She realised that her time with Syrio Forel was drawing to a close and she needed to make the most of it. She had started openly carrying her blade in the keep. Septa Mordane disapproved, but her father had allowed it. She would get up at dawn every morning and go down to the gardens with Nymeria to train for an hour before breakfast.

Sansa was never awake when she got back so she would do an hour of lessons, focusing on learning the houses and their sigils, then they would eat. Her new found want to learn things that were deemed lady like helped placate Septa Mordane, and these were things that she needed to know. After breakfast she would go train for another hour then come back and read from the History of the Greater and Lesser houses for two hours. Then she would leave Nymeria in their rooms and go chasing cats until her lesson. Septa Mordane may not like that she was carrying a sword but she couldn't argue about Arya's new found sense of discipline.

Arya had just finished her water dancing lesson. She and Nymeria made their way back to their rooms. She opened the door and found with relief that Septa Mordane and her sister were not there. She had just picked up an apple and started eating it when she saw her father come in with a book. She recognised the book and her heart sank. It was all about to start, that book, on the lineage of the greater and lesser houses with descriptions, should have been the last nail in the coffin for any chance of Joffrey getting the throne. But Maester Pycelle was loyal to house Lannister and Cersei would already know that Ned had asked for the book.

"Father?" She asked cautiously.

"Yes Ary?" Ned replied, he seemed completely distracted.

"Can we talk?"

Ned looked at her for a few seconds then put the book down. "Is everything okay?"

Arya shook her head. "I wanted to apologise for what I did the other week. It was wrong of me to put you on the spot with G... with the blacksmith apprentice." She realised as she was talking that her father hadn't told her Gendry's name.

"You're right," He replied. "You shouldn't have followed me, and you shouldn't have run into the forge like that." He chuckled. "And you certainly shouldn't have pulled your sword, but I understand why you did it." He walked over to Arya and hugged her.

She hugged him back tightly. She knew what was coming, she still had the memories from the other life, but they had started to fade. She wasn't an adult hiding in a child's body, she truly was an eleven year old girl. Just an eleven year old girl with terrible dreams. She didn't have the skills that her older self had.

"Gods, you are so like Lyanna." Ned muttered.

She pulled back from the hug and he smiled at her. She wanted to savour this moment, but she couldn't, she had a mission and she wouldn't get another chance. She leant into her father so that he couldn't look into her eyes. "What was his name?" she asked.

Ned stroked her hair and held her close. "Gendry." He replied.

Arya nodded. "Gendry." She repeated and gifted her father with a small smile. "How many others have you found?"

"A few." Ned replied. "Arya, you don't need to worry about this, I'll protect them."

"I know you'll try." Arya replied. "But what if something happens to you? Somebody else needs to know."

"Arya..."

"Please father, trust me, I'm the last person anybody will suspect. Tell me about them, tell me their names, how to find them. If something happens Gendry deserves to know who his brothers and sisters are."

Ned lifted up her chin and studied her face. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No." Arya replied. "I stopped following you, like I promised. But if you don't tell me I will try and find out another way."

Ned nodded. "Okay. Have you had lunch?" Arya pointed to the apple and he laughed. "I think we can do better than that. Let's get some real food and talk." He paused. "You may want to take notes if you're going to be the hand of the hand of the king."

Arya smirked and stood up. "Yes, my Lord." She replied and bowed dramatically. She almost tripped over Nymeria in her rush to get parchment and ink. An hour later she had a full belly and a list of names, ages and locations for every known Baratheon bastard in Kings Landing, and a few others besides.

She walked Nymeria in the gardens as she tried to plan out what to do next. The King was to go hunting the next day, she couldn't stop that, he would get drunk and wounded, she had maybe four days. It was unlikely that Gendry could read so the list wouldn't do him much good. She needed an ally that would listen, one that wasn't known to be connected to House Stark but that had reasons to by loyal to them. The next day she went in search of Yoren.

~~/~~

Part 2:

"Okay." Yoren said with a sigh. "Say for a minute that I believe you, which I don't, what would you have me do?"

"Easy." Arya replied. "As I said, I'm not asking you to believe me, I'm asking you to listen to me. If things happen in the next few days the way I believe they will, if King Robert dies and the Queen declares father a traitor and has him arrested, I will try to get to the street of steel, to the forge of Tobho Mott. Look for me there."

"And then what?" Yoren replied.

"And then we rescue Father, and Sansa if she's not already with me, save King Robert's bastards, and run like hell."

"Right, sounds easy." Yoren muttered.

"Can't be much harder than riding straight to the Wall on William's horse after getting revenge for your brother's murder." Arya replied.

"And how the hells do you know 'bout that?" Yoren asked, his eyes growing wide in shock.

"I told you," Arya replied slowly. "Sometimes I know things. Bran and Rickon do it too, but Bran's the strongest. I know you were a couple of years older than me when you watched your brother die, I know he was stabbed through the heart on your doorstep. I know you said William's name like a prayer every day unto the day he came riding back into town. I know you can't picture your brother's face but you can remember William's. He was a nice looking boy, good white teeth, blue eyes, dimpled chin… he wasn't so pretty after you buried an axe so deep into his scull they had to bury him with it though, was he?"

"You can't know that. Who told you that?" Yoren asked shaking his head.

"Who would tell me that? No one, you haven't told many people that story."

"Who else knows you can do this, girl."

Arya shook her head. "No one, I'm trusting you."

"God's girl, what else do you know?"

Arya paused. This was her one chance, she didn't know what difference Yoren could make but she knew he would try, and he actually believed her. She took a deep breath. "Lysa killed Jon Arryn then sent my mother a letter saying the Lannister's had done it. Littlefinger gave her the poison, he wants to take advantage of the chaos. He's going to betray Father. Daenerys Targaryen is going to miscarry her son and hatch 3 dragons. The Night King is real and the white walkers are coming, many of them are Craster's sons. Now I shouldn't know about Craster and his daughter-wives, should I?"

"No." Yoren replied.

"We need to make a pact with the Wildings if we want to survive the winter, and we need dragon glass. There is plenty of it at Dragonstone but Stannis is no longer a good man. He has turned to worshiping R'hllor, the Red God, and is burning people alive trying to become Azor Ahai. He will use blood magic to murder Renly."

"Gods." Yoren muttered. "If even half of that is true, we're fucked."

"You believe me?" Arya asked.

Yoren nodded. "I believe you. Gods, I wish I didn't, but I believe you."

Arya nodded. "The day my father is arrested I will see you at Tobho Mott's."

The wandering crow suddenly looked like he had aged ten years, his worry lines had already been so deep that Arya was surprised they could get deeper. "Anything else you need me to do?"

Arya paused. "Can you read?" Yoren shook his head. "Can you spare a small knife or dagger?"

Yoren frowned. "What sort of knife or dagger?"

"The type that's good for slitting people's throats." Arya replied with a coldness that belied her age.

Yoren didn't question her. He was a man that knew all too well the harsh realities of the world. He wasn't about to tell her that a young lady shouldn't be thinking or talking that way. All men of the black understand that survival comes at a cost. She was appealing to the soldier in him, not the man, and the soldier saw a kindred soul in her. He simply nodded and pulled out a slim double edged blade. "Will this do?"

Arya nodded. She took the blade then paused. "As far as my Father is concerned this conversation never happened."

"Aye," Yoren agreed. "Finally something we agree on. I need a drink."

~~/~~

Arya tried hard to be nice to Sansa but Sansa wasn't making it easy. Arya knew how to get herself out, but if she went down that path at least one of the direwolves was going to die. She didn't want any part in the death of Lady again. She had gotten up early and done her dawn training as usual, but today wasn't a usual day, today was the day that Littlefinger would betray her father. Nymeria kept nudging her and licking her hand as they made their way up the steps, clearly the wolf could sense that something was wrong. Arya scratched the back of Nymeria's ear and sighed. Septa Mordane was waiting when she got back to their rooms.

She did her first lesson of the day as usual. Sansa finally got up and they had breakfast. Instead of leaving after breakfast to train again Arya picked up her book and kept going over the houses and sigils. Sansa ignored her. Arya moved to sit by the window with her book and Nymeria curled up beside her. A servant brought an invitation from Princess Myrcella for Sansa and Arya sighed at Sansa's excitement. Clearly this was a plot by Cersei to ensure she knew where Sansa was. They would expect Arya to be at her water dancing lesson. Sansa looked at Lady and sighed, Princess Myrcella was scared of her. Arya tried to keep focused on her goal, she needed to save both direwolves.

"I could look after Lady for the day." She muttered quietly from her position on the floor.

"Why, Arya, that's a lovely offer." Septa Mordane responded. "Isn't that a lovely offer, Sansa?"

Sansa glared at Arya. "And how do I know you won't do anything stupid and put Lady in danger?"

Arya looked up from her book. "I'll even miss my water dancing lesson to look after her if you want me to." Arya replied innocently. "I'm trying to learn the sigil's of the Dornish houses anyway."

"Why the Dornish houses?" Sansa wanted to know.

Arya looked up at Sansa and smiled. "There are lots of good reasons to study Dorne. Nymeria, Meria Martell, and they treat their bastards better. I'd like to go there some day and get trained to use a sand-spare."

"I wish you'd go there now." Sansa replied meanly.

Arya sighed and lent against Nymeria. "So do I." She replied wistfully. "Go have your tea party or whatever, I'll skip my dance lesson and look after Lady."

Septa Mordane frowned. "Sansa, Arya has made a very nice offer, say thank you to your sister."

"Thank you." Sansa snarled as insincerely as possible.

Arya sighed. "Enjoy the lemon cakes."

Ten minutes after they had gone Arya grabbed a small knapsack with some extra clothes. She put both her and Nymeria's brushes in it. After some consideration she packed the book as well, even though it made the bag a lot heavier. Lastly she grabbed some apples from the table. She led both wolves through the servant passages to the kitchens.

Old Chef Roylon was happy to see her as always. "You're early today, mi'lady, and you brought your sister's wolf as well?"

Arya nodded. Chef Roylon gave both of the wolfs some meat and she asked for some bones for them for later, and some cheese and bread for herself. Another knapsack was found and Chef Roylon gave her a large wheel of cheese and two loafs of bread stating that he knew she would find people to share it with. He gave her a parcel of salted meats as well. When the wolves had eaten their full Arya used the servant's passages to make her way to the stable. If her calculations were correct she had little over two hours.

The stable boy that she had killed to escape in the previous time line was nowhere to be seen. She quickly saddled a horse and climbed into the saddle. Nobody tried to stop her as she rode out of the red keep with two direwolves behind her. She spent an hour and a half riding around the city, people would remember seeing a person riding with two direwolves so she tried to be seen in as many places as possible. Finally she made it to the street of steel and sold the horse to the first person that would pay for it. She knew she was getting ripped off but the horse was a liability. She pushed the gold into one of her bags and made it to Tobho Mott's nervously.

Gendry looked up as she entered the forge, Tobho Mott was nowhere to be seen. She urged the wolves in, flicked the sign to closed and shut and barred the door.

"We need your help." She whispered.

"I'm sure you do, mi'lady, but master Mott isn't going to be happy if he comes back and finds the shop closed."

"And if he comes back, finds two dead direwolves, the shop open and robbed and you and me taken by the Lannister's?" Arya asked. "Please, Gendry, they have my father and my sister, they will kill all of my father's men. I need you to hide us. It won't be for long, Yoren of the Black will come. But I need your help."

Gendry put his hammer down. He studied her for a minute and she suddenly felt silly pressing up against the door begging for his help. She felt the fear rising up in her throat. What if he wouldn't help her?

"You were right then?" he asked.

Arya nodded. She hated being this small fragile girl, especially when she had memories of being someone stronger.

"Having the door shut will draw attention." He muttered. "You better get out the back, try not to touch anything."

Arya nodded and went through the doorway that he had nodded to. He walked past her and re-opened the door. The back was messy and cluttered, she found a space on the floor. Lady whimpered and Arya reached out and patted her. Arya stretched out on the floor and pulled out her book. Both wolves curled up beside her as she settled in to read. The heat of the forge was immense, even back here, as Arya wasn't accustomed to it she quickly drifted off to sleep.

~~/~~

Dreaming was never peaceful for Arya, the memories of a life she would never lead tormented her. She was at the temple of Balor, crouched on the statue watching them. Joffrey, the Queen, Ilyn Payne, Sansa… the scene played out in her head as it had so many nights before. Often mis-remembered. Did Yoren hold her against his chest and tell her to look at him, or did she see her father's head get chopped off? Either way she woke up weeping, Nymeria trying to lick her tears away. As the back room of the smithy came into focus she hugged Nymeria tightly. Lady tried to comfort her as well. She moved into a sitting position, allowing Lady to climb into her lap as she buried her face into Nymeria's neck and wept.

After a while she realised that she could hear three male voices talking softly. She concentrated and recognised Gendry and Yoren, she could only guess that the third voice must be Tobho Mott. She managed to calm herself down and wiped the tears away from her face. She looked around and realised that it had gotten dark. A mug of water had been put down for her, and a dish for each wolf. She drank the water thankfully and carefully put her book away before cautiously moving in the direction of the voices, a bag on each shoulder and a direwolf at each side. She knew it must be obvious that she had been crying but she didn't care.

As she entered the room that the voices were coming from Yoren looked up and gave her a worried look. She gave him a weak smile in return. "You came." She whispered.

"Of course I came, girl." He replied gruffly. "I promised, didn't I?"

Arya nodded. She turned her gaze to Tobho Mott. "I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go. I have food to share, and money for meat for the direwolves. Once I free my father and my sister…"

Tobho Mott shook his head. "Keep your food, Lady Stark, I'll help you."

Arya shook her head. "Not Lady Stark, Lady Stark is my mother, just Arya. And the bread is fresh baked today, no point letting it go stale. Please, I know I'm an unwanted guest, but I bring bread and salt."

Tobho Mott nodded. He brought out a large wooden board and Arya pulled out the two loaves of bread and the salted meat. She pulled out the wheel of cheese last and Gendry let out a low whistle at the size of it. She smiled, pulling out the dagger that Yoren had given her and cut deeply into the wheel. She cut a generously sized wedge for each of them and Tobho Mott got drinks, he offered her ale but she asked for water instead.

Yoren raised an eyebrow at the dagger she was using to cut the cheese and she smiled. "I didn't have to kill anybody to escape." She said quietly in response to his unasked question.

Yoren nodded. "Good." He paused as if considering his words. "You're going to have to lay low for a few days before trying for your father and sister. You created quite a fuss today. Did you really have to ride around the entire city?"

Arya laughed. "I figured the more places I was seen the more conflicting reports the gold cloaks would get, and the harder it would be for them to know where to look."

Yoren nodded again. "Smart." He muttered. "You know, if you'd been born a boy I'd be trying to recruit you to the wall right now. We could use more good thinkers like you."

Arya nodded. She sliced four more pieces of cheeses and handed one to Gendry before eating one straight. He took it hesitantly.

"You're not going to be able to move those wolves without drawing attention." Tobho Mott observed. "I'll get a room made up upstairs for you. And don't worry about money for feeding them, you're going to need every copper once you leave Kings Landing."

Arya nodded. "You should leave Kings Landing too. Litterfinger knows you've been protecting Gendry, Varys most likely does too, that puts you in danger."

Tobho Mott shook his head. "I'm not afraid of them."

Arya nodded. "Do you read?" she asked.

The man nodded. "I'm from Qohor, you need to be able to read there to be trained as a smith, I've even taught Gendry a bit."

Arya nodded. "Good." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the piece of parchment. She handed it to Gendry. "This is everything I know about your brothers and sisters. If you help me save my family I'll help you save yours."

Gendry took the parchment as if it was the most precious item in the world, to him it possibly was. "Thank you, mi'lady." He looked up at Tobho Mott. "It's late, I should get home."

"Wouldn't it be safer if you stayed here?" Arya asked.

Gendry shook his head. "There's only one guest room."

Arya shrugged. "Then you take it, I don't need much space, just a corner for me and these two."

"Mi'lady, I couldn't…" Gendry was shaking his head.

"There's a spare room in the servants quarters, Gendry." Tobho Mott said gently.

Yoren nodded. "Good, I'll be back in three days. I'll try and swipe a spare set of dungeon keys while I'm sorting the recruits." He glanced at Arya. "Mind if I grab more of that cheese?"

"Mind if I keep the knife?" She answered as she cut a large hunk off for him.

"If I minded I wouldn't have given it to you in the first place." Yoren replied around a mouthful of cheese. He glanced up at Tobho Mott. "Told you Starks were different."

Tobho Mott nodded, he got up to let Yoren out, leaving Arya and Gendry alone. Gendry was still looking at the parchment with the information about his brothers and sisters.

"You must really hate me," Arya muttered. "Damn high-born coming in and messing up your life."

Gendry looked up at her in shock. "You've given me more answers than I've had my entire life, mi'lady, why would I hate you."

She looked at him sadly. "Because now you have to be afraid."

"Are you afraid?" Gendry asked.

Arya nodded. "Afraid and angry." She replied.

Gendry frowned. "Is that why you have bad dreams?"

Arya shook her head. "The bad dreams are why I'm afraid." She saw the question in his eyes. "I dreamt that they executed my Father at the Sept of Balor. I've been dreaming it for months." She paused, unsure if Gendry would believe her. "I dreamt about you, that's why I followed Father that day."

"What did you dream about me?"

Arya sighed, there were so many answers. She chose one of the bad memories. "Always starts after my Father is killed, it gets bad, really bad. Yoren tries to sneak us north but we get attacked by Lannister soldiers and taken as prisoners to Harrenhall. We're chained in this pen for days, no food, exposed the rain, sleeping in the mud. One day they choose you to be tortured. They strap you in a chair and ask you questions you cannot answer. They get a metal bucket, put a rat in it and strap it to your stomach. Then they get a torch. I'm not going to let that happen. That's what happens if we try to go north, so we'll go south. I don't know what happens if we go south but north isn't an option."

Gendry just looked at her in shock, after a minute or two he spoke. "You know the future?"

"The future isn't set in stone." Arya replied. "I know one version, and I'm determined to change it. Will you help me?"

Gendry nodded. "Yes, mi'lady, I'll help you."

~~/~~

Part 3:

Three days passed slowly for Arya. She soon learnt with relief that the street of steel was a noisy place, loud enough to cover the occasional howl of a direwolf. The hardest thing was safely letting Nymeria and Lady out to relieve themselves, the back of the blacksmith had a small fenced off courtyard leading to a back service ally and open sewers, but the ally was often busy so Arya only dared take them out in the early hours of the morning or late at night. Gendry would keep watch, but it was unclear if he was more afraid of the direwolves being seen or the direwolves themselves.

Luckily for Arya she had spent many months keeping to herself, so she was used to the loneliness. Nymeria had been her only companion since the day she had ended her friendship with Mycah and saved his life. She stayed upstairs, alternating her time between reading and training.

On the first day Gendry came up to bring her some food while she was training. The expression on his face was so priceless that she just kept training. He watched for a while and then wordlessly put the food down and turned to leave.

"Gendry." Arya said quietly, causing him to turn and face her.

"Yes, mi'lady?" He kept his eyes lowered, a difficult feat considering how short she was.

Arya stopped, she brought Needle in front of her so that the hilt was at her waist and the blade drew a line down the middle of her face. "Thank you." She said softly, bowing with the word.

"It's nothing, mi'lday, I'm sure you're used to far better." Gendry muttered.

Arya put her blade away and took a step closer to him. "We don't do that in the North." She said gently. "We don't disrespect the gifts given by others." She gestured towards the plate. "This food is a gift, thank you."

Gendry nodded, still keeping his eyes lowered. Arya frowned, that had to stop. It was an action that she had never really seen until she had arrived at Kings landing. Sure, those that were not of noble birth were respectful in the north, but this was downright fear. Those of lower birth in Kings landing were openly called low-borns and treated poorly, something which her father would never have tolerated at Winterfell. She took another step towards him and touched his chin, lifting it to make him look her in the eyes. She pulled back in surprise when he flinched at the action.

"I'm not going to harm you." She said gently. "I just hate it when people lower their eyes when they talk to me. You are not less than me, the fact that your father was too much of a fool to come and claim you is his failing, not yours. And you have lovely eyes. Let me see them when you talk to me."

Gendry looked down. He took a deep breath then forced himself to meet her gaze. "Sorry, mi'lady." He muttered, his brow furrowing in that way that was so distinctly _Gendry_ that it made her heart ache for a friendship she might never have now. Nobody could contort their expressions, or say so much with so few words, the way that he could.

Arya shook her head. "Don't apologise, you have nothing to apologise for. And my name's not mi'lady, it's Arya."

"As mi'lady commands." He replied.

Arya took a step back and shook her head rolling her eyes. "You are impossible." She muttered.

"Yes, mi'lady." Gendry agreed, still meeting her gaze, the beginning of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I'd best be getting back to work."

Arya just nodded her head and went back to practicing. Gods he was so frustrating! She hadn't expected him to be so different this time. She hadn't realised what a difference it would make having him know who she was from the start. If she was going to have any chance of getting anything near the friendship that she saw in her dreams she had her work cut out for her.

~~/~~

On the second day Kings Guards came to the street of steel. Arya was sure that somebody must have seen her enter the forge, or heard Lady crying for Sansa, but after over an hour the guards left. Unable to believe that they weren't coming back, Arya spent the next two hours standing guard with her sword in her hands, her arms were aching by the time Tobho Mott came up to check on her.

Eventually she sat down with her book and tried to do some reading, but her arms ached and the room was hot, she was fighting to stay awake from the moment she sat down. She pushed the book aside and stated patting Nymeria, Lady came over for some attention too. Soon the three of them were curled up on the floor. The last thoughts that went through Arya's mind before she fell into a troubled sleep were that her mother had often made comments about fearing how Arya might just run off one day and join a pack of direwolves. Did two count as a pack?

It was late in the afternoon when Gendry shook her awake, the look of concern on his face telling her that she had been having sleep terrors again, or maybe it was just because she was laying in the middle of the floor? Nymeria and Lady were on the far side of the room, suggesting that she had been thrashing in her sleep.

"Mi'lady," He whispered. "Mi'lady, wake up."

She couldn't remember what she had been dreaming but she knew that it was bad, all she remembered was pain and fear. She felt the hot prickling at the back of her eyes that meant she was close to tears. Gendry was kneeling on the ground beside her, genuine concern overwhelming any possible fears of overstepping his station. In an instant she decided that she couldn't wait for their friendship to slowly build, she needed that friendship now. She flung her arms around him and let herself sob. Gendry froze at first, but slowly he hugged her back.

She clung to him for a little while after the tears had subsided, breathing in the smell of smoke and salt. Eventually she pulled away, embarrassed both at her weakness and at how tightly she had hugged him. "Sorry." She muttered, looking away.

"Don't apologise, you have nothing to apologise for." He answered gently, returning the exact words that she had said to him the day before.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Gendry nodded and stood up. "Any time, mi'lady." He offered her a hand and helped her to her feet. "Bad dreams again?"

Arya nodded. "I'm not used to the heat of this place."

Gendry nodded in understanding. "It does take some getting used to, I guess." He shrugged. "It's never really bothered me."

Arya gave him a small smile. "I bet I could outlast you in summer snows." She replied. "You'd be shivering like Jon does while Robb and Bran and I are still making snowballs." She paused, catching herself at her own words. She looked down. "Not that Bran will ever be making snowballs again, and Jon's gone to the Wall now… and I guess Robb will marry someone soon." She could feel the hot sting of tears again.

"They're your brothers?" Gendry asked.

Arya nodded. "And Rickon, he's younger again."

"Why did Jon go to the Wall?" Gendry asked.

Arya shook her head sadly. "He never told me, but I believe mother had a lot to do with it. She never did forgive father for bringing him home."

Gendry looked at her confused. "I don't understand."

Arya was surprised. She had to remind herself that she wasn't in the North anymore, the whole world didn't know that her brother was a bastard. She gave Gendry a sad smile. "My brother, Jon Snow."

"Oh." Gendry replied. "He was raised with you?"

Arya nodded. "My mother never missed an opportunity to remind him that he is not a Stark, must have been the happiest day of her life when he left with Uncle Benjin." She muttered bitterly.

"Your Uncle is at the Wall too?"

Arya nodded. "A ranger beyond the Wall actually, one of the best." She answered with a hint of pride. "Most generations at least one Stark goes to the Wall, we northerners understand how important it is better than most."

Gendry nodded, he went as if to say something then stopped himself, his brow furrowing in thought. He shook his head and frowned. "Master Mott will be wondering where I got to."

Arya nodded. He turned to go and started to walk towards the stairs. He paused and looked like he was going to say something else, but then he shook his head - as if telling himself not to - and kept going. Arya sighed as she listened to him walking down the stairs. Yes, it was going to be harder with him knowing that she was of noble birth before building the friendship, but she had built many friendships form this position, but she could do it. Only after he had gone did she notice the small plate of food which was the reason he had come upstairs.

~~/~~

The third day dragged on forever. The sun rose, but Yoren didn't come. The forge opened and the street of steel came to life, but Yoren didn't come. There was an argument 3 buildings down, but Yoren didn't come. The sun reached its apex, Arya's breakfast still untouched, but Yoren didn't come. Gendry brought up more food, and realised with concern that Arya hadn't eaten, but Yoren didn't come. Tohbo Mott came to check on her mid-afternoon, and expressed concern that she hadn't eaten, but Yoren didn't come.

She brushed out Lady's fur, but Yoren didn't come. Surprisingly Nymeria behaved as her fur was brushed, but Yoren didn't come. The forge closed and the sun set, but Yoren didn't come. She sat staring blankly at the wall, fingers absently brushing through Nymeria and Lady's fur, but Yoren didn't come. Tobho Mott tried to talk to her but she couldn't focus on the words, she wanted to stand by the window but she knew not to risk it, the moon was high in the sky, and Yoren did not come.

She sat, a direwolf at each side, trying not to think. Yoren did not come and she finally fell asleep, not on the bed, but on the floor curled between Nymeria and Lady. Sometime in the early morning she awoke to the sound of quiet voices and realised that Yoren had finally come. As the sun rose on the fourth day, four conspirators sat around a candle and made a plan, it would be a couple more days before they could put it into action. Six days after Arya had escaped the Red Keep she re-entered it through a servant way, wearing a heavy cloak, with Gendry at her side.

~~/~~

"This is a stupid plan." Gendry muttered as they snuck through the servant passages into the Red Keep.

Arya rolled her eyes. "I don't see you coming up with a better one." She hissed. "Be quite, noise travels in here."

Gendry looked nervous, but he also looked determined. He had a sword on his hip and a war hammer in his hands, the hammer had been Arya's idea. They had rolled it in a blanket to sneak it past the guards on the way into the keep.

Gendry had been amazed at how easy it was for a servant to get through. That amazement had quickly moved to concern however when faced with the maze-like passages that the servant's used to get around. Arya navigated them with ease, having started exploring them the first day she had arrived.

An old black cat with a torn ear ran across their path and suddenly stopped in the middle of the corridor looking at Arya. Arya recognised it as the cat people believed was Balerion, the cat that had once been Rhaenys Targaryen's kitten. That was the cat that she had followed down to the dungeons the day that she had overheard Varys.

"That's the real king of this castle right there." She whispered to Gendry. "Older than sin and twice as mean. People say he once stole a roast quail right out of Lord Tywin's fingers... I nearly caught him once."

"I think he remembers." Gendry muttered.

The cat continued to stand in their path, looking at Arya, a moment later they heard footsteps. The cat turned and dated through a partially open doorway. Arya followed, pulling Gendry with her, just before a pair of guards rounded the corner. The old black cat rubbed against Arya's leg, she tentatively reached down to scratch its ear and amazingly it let her.

"Now you want to be my friend?" She muttered. The cat just rubbed against her leg again then left the room. It seemed to be going the same place that they were going and they ended up following it, many times the cat's actions helped them avoid the guards. Arya couldn't shake the feeling that the cat was intentionally leading them. Once in the dungeons their path separated with the cat's as it went in the direction of the Dragon skulls.

They hadn't gotten much further when Arya thought she heard footsteps again, she couldn't be sure, the sound was much lighter that the steps of any guards, but she pulled Gendry into the shadows to wait just in case. They had barely managed to hide themselves when Varys came into view. He looked around then turned down another passageway. After some debate Arya decided they should follow him. Varys being Varys however they would have to be cautious, she quietly removed her boots and signalled for Gendry to do the same. He frowned at her but did as she wished.

They followed Varys at a distance, eventually he reached his destination, he looked around again before take a key and unlocked a large cell. Thankfully he didn't look too carefully and Arya could only assume he was looking for guards. She waited a while before moving closer to listen.

"… Sansa came to court this morning, to plead for your life."

"On her knees, begging for me." Arya heard her father say with bitterness, the sound of his voice causing a lump in her throat. He sounded broken, defeated. She'd never heard him like that. He let out a bitter laugh and it was all that she could do to force herself to wait. "Did you laugh with the others?"

Arya took a slow breath and forced herself to relax. She released the hilt of Needle, which she hadn't even realised she had grabbed and carefully put her boots back on with trembling hands. Gendry wordlessly put his boots back on as well. She could hear Varys talking, something about everybody having a role to play, everything was games to him. She looked at Gendry sadly and knew that he wasn't about to like what she was going to do.

She had made a choice the moment that she had seen Varys, the man was dangerous and unpredictable. In part she knew that this wasn't the choice of the eleven year old Arya. This was the older Arya, the Arya who had lost everything. This was the Arya that knew Varys would help Daenerys, this was the woman that had seen too much war and loss, who had almost become no-one. Daenerys coming to Westeros, and the wars that resulted, had weakened them against the Night King, Varys had played a large role in that. It had been over the moment the Night King had gained one of her dragons…

Arya realised that she was losing herself in thought. She had to separate herself from her troubles. She was a weapon, a blade, a sword, nothing more. She quietly drew her sword and tried to think of it as a part of her hand. She started listening again, Varys was talking. "…Cersei's no fool, she knows a tame wolf is more use to her than a dead one."

Arya didn't stop to think, she burst into the cell. "What about a free one?" She asked, her sword aimed at Varys. Gendry wasn't far behind, war hammer in hand.

"Arya?" Ned looked up at her, bewildered, but her attention was on Varys.

"Where are they keeping her?" she asked, pointing Needle at Varys's chest.

"Lady Arya, I…" Varys stuttered, but Arya had no time for it. "My sister, Sansa, where is Joffrey keeping her?"

"Lady Arya, let's be reasonable…" Varys placed his hands up pleadingly.

"Let's not." Arya replied. "My father and sister are prisoners and Gold Cloaks have been hunting me for days. I'm all out of reasonable. Now tell me where to find my sister."

"You should listen to her." Gendry advised. "She's scarier than she looks."

Arya took a step forward, forcing Varys to take a step back and putting his back against a pillar.

"Arya, don't." Her father pleaded. He was a good man, but now was not the time for good men.

Arya pressed the blade into Varys' chest just hard enough to start drawing blood. "Tell me where my sister is."

"Okay, okay." Varys replied, "They're keeping her in the north tower, you can't miss it, Joffrey had the heads of all the Stark people put on pikes so Sansa has to look at them. She's well-guarded though, you won't be able to get to her."

Arya nodded. "Thank you, Lord Varys." She said politely, and then she killed him. "Gendry, chains."

Gendry seemed stunned for a moment then he leapt into action trying every key on the ring that Yoren had given them. Eventually one worked.

Arya ignored them and searched Varys' body until she found another ring of keys. She smiled, "These are what we need." She muttered. She found a couple of coin pouches on him and took those as well.

Gendry got Ned's chains undone and helped him to his feet. "Can you walk?"

Ned looked from Arya to Gendry, still in shock. "I… yes, I think so." He looked at Arya. "We have to get Sansa."

Arya shook her head. "We have to get you to safety first, then we'll get Sansa. There is a ship waiting. Nymeria and Lady are already on it."

Her father nodded, too tired or too broken to argue. He tried to stand but his injured leg didn't want to behave for the first couple of steps so he ended up leaning on Gendry heavily. His eyes lingered for a long time on Varys' body as they left the cell. Ned Stark couldn't move quickly and they were soon spotted by guards. Gendry tried to steady Ned against the wall but Arya's father had been raised a soldier and he wasn't about to sit back and let somebody else fight his fight, he pulled the sword from Gendry's waist before the young man could react.

Gendry's hammer killed the first guard, Ned lunged for the second but his leg betrayed him. Arya parried the blow that was about to strike her father and forced the guard to step back, lining him up for Gendry's second shoot. Another guard came running and Arya rushed ahead, ducking under his strike and coming up with a killing blow.

She led the way confidently to the gate that blocked off the area where the dragon skulls were kept. It took a couple of attempts to get the gate open, but she got them through and the gate locked without them being seen. She led them straight to the largest dragon skull and they climbed inside to hide. It was only once they were in the relative safety of the Dragon's skull that she allowed herself to register the blood on her hands.

Maybe an hour had passed? There had been no sounds of guards for some time. Arya took a deep breath and looked at Gendry. "You go down that passage and keep going down." She pointed to the way out. "You will end up outside the keep on the beach, follow it around to the port and met Yoren, I'm going to get Sansa."

"You can't go alone." Her father argued.

"You're not fit to fight." Arya argued back. "Besides I know these passages almost as well as the old black cat does, trust me."

Her father shook his head. "Take Gendry with you."

Arya looked at her father sadly. She hugged him and quickly pulled away. "I love you, Father." She turned her attention back to Gendry. "Stick to the plan, the ship sails at dawn whether I'm there or not, sooner if you have to. Lord Stark has to get back to Winterfell, even if you have to carry him yourself."

Gendry nodded. "Yes, mi'lady." He answered sadly.

Arya started to walk back to the gate but her father grabbed her. "Arya, I can't risk losing you as well."

"What do you think Joffrey will do to her once he finds out you've escaped?" Arya asked coldly. "Do you think he'll let it go? Or do you think he'll sit on the Iron throne with a crossbow pointed at her while he instructs someone like Meryn Trant to rip her clothes from her and beat her? Do you think he'll stop there? You waged a war for your sister, let me try and help mine. She's my sister, even if she doesn't like me very much."

Her father looked at her for a long moment then let her go with a nod. "You better be at that damn ship before dawn." He muttered.

~~/~~

Arya had no idea what she was going to do as she walked away from her father. She saw the dead guards and suddenly realised that Gendry still had the guard keys. She checked the guards and found another set and some coin pouches. She tucked the coin pouches away and picked up the keys, she hesitated for a minute and then picked up one of the swords as well. Suddenly she had a plan.

She started looking through the cells in search of one particular prisoner, it didn't take her long to find the faceless man that wore the face of Jaqen H'ghar. She opened the door to his cell and he gave her a curious look, his red and white hair falling around his face.

"A girl would like to make a deal." She said quietly.

"A man is listening." Jaqen H'ghar replied.

"A girl has given two gifts to the god of death tonight, and helped give two more." She said slowly. "But a girl must give many more deaths if she is going to save her sister, and a girl cannot do it alone."

"And who is a girl's sister?" Jaqen asked.

Arya smiled. "The name that I would like to keep from the many-faced god tonight is Sansa Stark, I am willing to give many names in return."

"And why should a man help?" Jaqen's voice gave away nothing but curiosity.

"A man may choose to help because the god of death is the only one being prayed to tonight. A man may choose not to help, for reasons of his own. A man may have another path to walk. A man may choose to give me the gift of death instead. A man is free to make his own choices. A girl gives keys and a sword regardless of what choice a man makes." She threw the keys to him, placed the sword on the ground and left the cell.

It took her over an hour to sneak her way from the dungeons to the kitchens. She planned to pose as a servant to approach the guards. She wanted to make it believable. She put some food on a plate and then put the plate on a tray, she carefully pulled the cloak around her to hide her sword and made her way to where he sister was being held.

There were two guards at the entrance to the tower, neither of them were guards that she knew but she kept her head down.

"What's this then?" One of the guards asked.

"For Lady Stark." She replied quietly, lowing her gaze.

"At this hour of night?"

Arya just shrugged. "I do as I'm told."

The guard looked at the tray, he lifted the plate to check that there was nothing hidden under it. He put it down stole a piece of food and ate it before letting her through. Arya made her way into the tower, there were a number of rooms and it took her a couple of attempts to find Sansa's room. She knocked on Sansa's door only to be greeted by the words. "Go away."

"Sansa," She hissed. "It's Arya, let me in."

Sansa opened the door slowly and looked at Arya with wide eyes. "How?" She whispered. Suddenly she noticed the blood on Arya. "What happened?"

Arya glanced down at the blood. "Not mine." She replied. "Father's waiting, let me in."

After the initial shock Sansa was surprisingly willing to follow instruction. Arya gave her a knapsack and she put a few items in it quickly. Arya positioned herself behind the door and nodded to Sansa who stood in the middle of the room and let out a scream. As predicted one guard came to investigate and the other kept watch. The guard was so focused on Sansa that he never saw Arya coming. Arya slid her blade into the gap at the armpit of his armour and straight into his lung, her right hand over his mouth to stifle his yell.

"You killed him?!" Sansa yelled at her in shock.

Arya looked at Sansa in exasperation "What else was I supposed to do?! We have to go, Sansa, now!"

Sansa shook her head and backed away from Arya. "You horrible little horse-face, you killed him! He was just following orders and you killed him, you don't even care, do you? Gods! How are you my sister? Why couldn't Jeyne Poole have been my sister? Why couldn't I have a _nice_ sister? They would have let father live if you hadn't done this! Now they'll kill us all!"

"No." Arya replied. "They wouldn't have let farther live, no matter how many times you got down on your knees and begged. And if I was nice and ladylike I'd be a victim and a prisoner just like you!" she snapped. "Stop yelling, we have to go."

But it was too late, the other guard had already come. He looked at the dead guard on the ground and then at Arya. Without a word he drew his sword. Sansa screamed and backed against the wall. Arya ducked as he swung his blade. She put the body of the dead guard between them. The guard swung again and she parried, but she parried wrong and he knocked Needle from her hand.

She threw herself on the ground as he attacked her again and reached for the dead guard's sword. It was heavier than she was used to, she struck up blindly and connected with the guard, striking his hand, his sword almost cutting her as he dropped it. She dropped the dead guard's sword and grabbed Needle, scrambling to her feet as the living guard clutched his hand in pain. She grabbed Sansa and pulled her from the room. The guard lunged, trying to stop her, but he was injured and unarmed. Needle stuck him in the throat.

Arya had to pull at Sansa again to get her to move. They got out of the tower and ran over the bridge. Arya pulled Sansa towards the narrow corridors that the servants used, but she was panicking and she didn't know this part of the keep very well. They quickly became lost. Suddenly there were a group of three guards coming towards them, they turned to run, but there were two guards approaching from the other end of the corridor as well. It was too many, too many to fight, so much for being sneaky and cleaver.

Sansa froze, the guards approached slowly. Arya looked from the group of three guards to the group of two, she wold have better chances with the two, but she couldn't count on Sansa to run. She looked back at the group of three guards. The back guard suddenly fell, his head separated from his body by a fast moving sword, a flash of red and white hair and another guard fell shortly after. Arya pushed Sansa against the wall as the third guard fell. Seeing Jaqen H'ghar as the threat, the other two guards moved quickly past the Stark girls, but Jaqen made short work of them.

Jaqen turned towards them and bowed. "A man has chosen." He said softly. He took a step closer to Arya and raised his blade to her neck. She looked him in the eyes and did not flinch. "A girl is brave." He muttered. "Or is she stupid?" He lowered his blade. "This is your sister?"

Arya nodded. "This is Sansa."

He looked at her carefully. "How many gifts has a girl given tonight?" He asked.

"Four." Arya replied.

"And before tonight?"

Arya shook her head. "None before tonight."

Jaqen smiled. "And where is a girl taking her sister?"

"There is a boat, a ship, men from White Harbor, it sails at dawn with or without us." Arya replied.

Jaqen nodded. "Let's get you on it then."

Arya had to admit that there was something of a relief in letting somebody else do the bulk of the fighting. She held her own, but Jaqen got them out of the Keep and to the docks with surprising ease. Yoren was waiting to lead them to the right ship. As they approached Yoren looked at Jaqen than back at Arya, recognition in his eyes, and his hand moved to his blade.

Jaqen bowed and smiled. "It looks like I will be declining that offer to take the black." He told Yoren. "You should rethink that policy of not taking females though, a girl has many gifts."

Yoren shook his head as Jaqen walked away. He waited unto Jaqen was gone to take them to the ship. "That is a very dangerous man." He muttered.

"I know exactly who that was." Arya replied. "That's why I asked for his help."

~~/~~

Part 4:

Arya watched Sansa burst into a run the moment their father came into sight. Arya was too tired to run, too numb. It didn't matter, Sansa would need all of the attention anyway. Sansa threw her arms around their father and started sobbing as the ship pulled away from the docks. Ned hugged her tightly, but looked over her shoulder at Arya with concern. Arya gave her father a sad smile and looked for somewhere to sit down and clean Needle. She found a group of barrels lashed to a mast and decided it would do.

She hated being so short, she had to put a lot of effort into jumping up to the top of one of the barrels and her tired limbs no longer wanted to obey. She knew she needed to get as much blood off of her as possible before checking on Nymeria. Gendry appeared with a small bucket of water and some rags. There were wet patches on his clothes and a few places where he had missed splotches of blood. There was also a line of blood along his jawline which he clearly hadn't realised was there yet.

She took the offered water and rags wordlessly and started scrubbing the blood off of her hands and clothes. There were no words, not after what they had just done. He pulled himself up onto a barrel and lent his head against the mast, gazing numbly at the night sky. Minutes past and finally he talked.

"Let's never do that again." He muttered.

"Sounds good." Arya agreed, but she knew it was a promise that couldn't be kept.

Once she had removed as much blood as she could she lent her head against the mast. The night was clear and the stars looked bright, she started going over the constellations in her head. Her eyes found the dragon first, then the bull, the wolf… her mind wandered and she remembered Theon going on about how the Iron born can navigate by the stars.

The part of her that wasn't her felt a sudden surge of hatred towards Theon for crimes that he had not yet committed. They were crimes that he might never commit, but the realisation that he was capable of doing that too her family broke her heart. It was so confusing. Was he still that person if he didn't do those horrible things? She had viewed him as a brother, but how could she ever trust him again? She needed to think of something else.

She sighed and looked at Gendry, this was her priority now, to help him and his siblings. They had time, it would be a few weeks before Joffrey would decide to start killing bastards. The plan was to go with her father as far as White Harbor, once they were in the North her and Gendry would slip away and double back to Kings Landing. It had only taken a month for King Robert, with a full caravan of wagons, a month to cover twice the distance. Two people on horseback should be able to make it in a week or so. The hope was that her father would be too committed to getting back to Winterfell to be able to stop them. It would be hard to leave Nymeria behind but it was for the best.

She realised that she was starting to drift off to sleep. She should move, she should get off of the barrel and go check on Nymeria, but she didn't feel like moving. Gendry's shoulder was right there, she wondered if he would forgive her if she rested her head on it? The more she thought about it the more appealing the idea seemed. Before she was aware that she had decided to find out her head was on his shoulder. He didn't object, so she closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep.

She woke up some time later to realise that her father was carrying her. He shuffled her gently in his arms and opened the cabin door. He laid her on a bed and she reached up and hugged him. "Easy there, little soldier." He muttered. "I'm so sorry you had to go through what happened tonight."

"It's okay." Arya replied.

Her father shook his head. "No, it's not. I'm supposed to protect you from things like that. I'm so sorry Ary, you shouldn't be the one protecting me."

Arya hugged him again. "We'll be at White Harbor soon." She replied.

"I'm so proud of you." He muttered. "You did so well. We'll go to Dragonstone, then White Harbor, then home to Winterfell."

Arya was suddenly wide awake. "Wait, why Dragonstone? That wasn't part of the plan."

Ned nodded. "Aye, it was a good plan, but I need to talk to Stannis, tell him about Robert's bastards, maybe he can help them."

Arya's blood suddenly ran cold. "You're going to tell him how to find them?" She asked in a quiet voice.

Ned nodded. "Yes, they're his blood, he'll help them. Gendry's a good lad, if he wants he can come to Winterfell with us."

Arya couldn't believe what she was hearing, by giving Stannis the locations and names of the seven bastards of Robert Baratheon that her father had found in Kings Landing he would also be giving that information to Melisandre. Arya's mind screamed at the possibilities of what the red priestess would do to them. The youngest was a one month old baby girl named Bella who's mother was owned by Littlefinger.

A sudden image of a baby being placed on a pyre and the pyre being set alight flashed through Arya's mind. They'd be dead or worse within a week. She swallowed thickly and feigned tiredness. Her father wouldn't believe the truth even if she told him. Nymeria jumped up on the bed and Arya hugged her tightly. She lay down and pretended she was going to sleep. Ned dropped a kiss on her forehead and pulled a blanket over her.

"I love you, Father." She said quietly as he was about to leave the cabin.

Ned nodded. "I love you too, Arya, very much."

She waited until he had left the room and then sat up. They were out of time. She needed to get Gendry and get off of this ship, fast. She hugged Nymeria tightly, not wanting to say goodbye. She wanted to lie down again but she couldn't risk going back to sleep. She moved quietly so as not to wake Sansa who was curled up with Lady on the other bed. Nymeria tried to follow her but she pushed the direwolf back into the cabin. She almost got caught twice sneaking back on deck. Gendry had curled up on a couple of the barrels. He looked almost peaceful and she felt guilty having to shake him awake.

"Gendry," she whispered. "Gendry, we have to go, something's changed, you're in danger."

"Can it wait til morning, mi'lady." Gendry asked groggily.

"Only if you want to be burnt alive by a red priestess." Arya replied. That woke him up.

"What's happened?" She could see the fear in his eyes.

"I'll explain once we get to shore. Can you swim?"

Gendry shook his head. "No."

"Have you ever rowed a boat before?" She asked.

Gendry shook his head again. "No."

"I guess we're both going to be very tired by the time we get to shore then." Arya replied.

~~/~~

Sometimes Arya hated being right. They had found a dingy and managed to lower themselves down in it without getting caught. Gendry had rowed for as long as he could, then Arya had made him switch places and rowed for a while. Gendry was much stronger than she was and she felt like her strokes weren't getting them anywhere, but Gendry looked so tired that she forced herself to keep rowing. 'Every hurt is a lesson, and every lesson makes you stronger.' She reminded herself as she forced herself to row just one more stroke, just one more stroke…

The sun came up, Gendry was asleep in the bow of the boat, his war hammer across his lap. Arya found that she was making progress but it was slow. 'Just one more stroke, maybe two, then I'll wake him. I can do one more stroke, one more...' He neck and shoulders hurt, her arms ached and her back was starting to spasm, but she didn't have the heart to wake him. The sun started to get higher in the sky. 'Just one more stroke.' Suddenly the shore came into view, somehow the currents had moved them near the secret entrance to the Keep. 'I can do this.' Arya told herself. 'Just a little further, I can do this.' She didn't wake Gendry until they were almost at the beach.

Arya was stumbling by the time they hit the shore but they weren't safe yet. She watched as Gendry pushed the dingy out to float away. They found the small secret entrance way to the lower Keep and went through a few of the secret passageways before Arya was willing to stop. Finally she leant against the hard stone wall and let herself slide into a sitting position drawing her knees up, she rested her wrists on her knees and watched her arms tremble with exhaustion.

Gendry also noticed that her arms were shaking. "Gods," he whispered. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed the sleep." Arya replied. "Besides, if we're going to save your brothers and sisters I'm going to need you to be able to swing that hammer."

"Right," Gendry mutter bitterly. "We're going to kill more people."

"I don't want to." Arya replied sadly. ""But I'm not going to sit back and let innocents die."

"Me neither." Gendry agreed. "So what changed?" He asked. "I thought you said we had time?"

"We did." Arya muttered. "Until Father decided to go via Dragonstone."

Gendry thought about that for a moment. "Stannis Baratheon is at Dragonstone." He said quietly.

Arya nodded. "So is a red priestess named Melisandre. Stannis has been burning people alive as sacrifices to the lord of light. Melisandre will convince Stannis that burning you alive will give him the power to take over Kings Landing, stepping on Dragonstone right now is death for you."

"Gods." Gendry muttered.

"Father thinks Stannis will help you and your brothers and sisters because they are his blood, and because that's what my Father would do, he's going to tell him how to find them all. I can't let that happen, I'm not going to let Melisandre hurt them. I'm not going to let her hurt you again, not like in my dreams. I failed you once, I'm not going to fail you again Gendry."

Arya could feel the pain and the anger of the Arya that wasn't her, she could remember standing surrounded by the brotherhood without banners, outnumbered, while the guards chained Gendry up and threw him into the back of that cart. She was pulled out of the vision by Gendry's words.

"Wait, you're trying to protect _me_?!" He asked in shock.

Arya nodded. "Yes."

"This red priestess, this Malar-"

"Melisandre." Arya replied.

"Melisandre," Gendry repeated. "She wasn't going to hurt you? She just wanted me?" He watched her as she nodded. "So you could have gone to Dragonstone, you would have been safe. Gods, you should be with your family! With your father, and your sister, and the direwolves… you shouldn't be here. You gave me the list, you should have gotten me on the dingy and let me go!" He was visibly getting more and more upset as he realised the choice that she had made.

Arya shook her head. "I made my choice, Gendry, I chose to help you."

"But why?" Gendry yelled. "I'm just a bastard! Why would you choose a bastard over your family?!"

Arya was starting to get upset too, why was he making this so hard? Why couldn't he see that there was no choice? "I did what I thought was right," She yelled back. "And I'm going to keep doing what I think is right! And that's not sitting back and letting innocent people die so that I can run back to the North and hide at Winterfell! It's not letting other people get hurt or die fighting for me. Maybe Sansa can sit in the corner and do needlework while other people fight, but I can't! The only needle I'm any good with is this one!" She replied pointing to her sword.

She could feel the tears starting to spill out of her eyes and she angrily swiped them away. "This is my choice, Gendry, besides, you need me. You might be able to save a few of them alone, but you'll never get little Bella away from Littlefinger without my help!"

Gendry's face crumpled in confusion and frustration. "I just don't understand." He whispered sadly.

Arya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I know." She replied with a sigh. "I'm tired, Gendry. Can we talk about this later?"

He studied her for a few moments then nodded. "Yeah." He lent his head against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry for yelling."

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. The shaking in Arya's arms started to lessen a little and she shuffled against the wall trying to find a position that was slightly less uncomfortable, nothing worked.

"Gendry?" She asked softly, her voice sounding small even to her own ears.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"I'm not used to going to sleep without Nymeria beside me. Do you mind if I lean against you?"

"No, mi'lady, I don't mind."

She leant against him and he hesitantly put his arm around her shoulders. "I guess I'm stuck with you, huh?" He asked teasingly. "How old are you, anyway? Nine?"

"Eleven." Arya muttered and snuggled in closer. "I'm just small."

"Small, but brave." Gendry muttered.

~~/~~

Part 5:

Arya's dreams were disturbing as usual, some of them were visions of what could be - memories of what might never be - but others were just nightmares. Things were getting more and more confusing in her head. There was always pain in her dreams, so much pain, especially in her gut. The Waif had stabbed her there, more than once, and twisted the blade. She had survived that. She had stabbed herself there as part of the ritual to bring herself back and change things. She hadn't survived that.

She remembered dying. It had only been for an instant, or an eternity, but she remembered it all the same. The spell was in place, even bleeding out against the tree in Winterfell she could hear the sound of wood on wood as her younger self spared with the butcher's boy, but there had been an instant where she had ceased to be. The suddenness of existing again had been a shock that she had never quite recovered from.

She woke up alone on the stone floor in the dark. There was no sign of Gendry. She pushed herself into a sitting position and quickly checked that she still had her weapons. Slowly her eyes adjusted and she realised that there was some light coming from a far corridor. Her mind was racing, had Gendry abandoned her? Had somebody found them? If somebody had found them why not take her? A dozen scenarios ran through her mind, each one worse than the one before. Slowly she eased herself to her feet, placed her back close to the wall, and started to make her way towards the faint light.

Where was Gendry?! She eased herself up to the corner and tried to control her breathing and listen. Her arms still ached from the rowing and she was concerned that it would become an issue if she had to fight. The light was coming from the left. It was a maze down here, she had to be careful to remember which way she turned or she would soon be lost. Had Gendry gotten lost? Did he need her to come find him? There must be over a hundred passageways down here, if he was lost he could wander for weeks!

She turned the corner slowly, her left hand on the hilt of Needle. There was nobody there. The light wasn't coming from this passageway but from somewhere further down, somewhere further under the keep. Arya argued with herself about if she should investigate the light or turn back. The light had to be coming from something, which meant somebody was likely down there and she was in danger. But the further she went the harder it would be for Gendry to find her when he came back. If he came back. Had he really left her? Had he heard someone coming and moved away from her to let them capture him and keep her safe? Why hadn't he woken her?

She turned right at the next corner, following the light, there was a stairway leading off of the passageway to the left, leading downwards, there were lower layers to the keep. There were doorways off of this corridor, which meant that there were rooms leading off of it. Storage rooms maybe? Arya couldn't begin to think what would be in rooms so deep under the keep. Surely nobody would live down here? There was a doorway half open about a third of the way down the corridor, and that was where the light was coming from.

She approached slowly, with her back pressed against the opposite wall. The light flickered like touch light, a small flame, not like a fire in a hearth. Her mind instantly recognised that it was not the eleven year old Arya that could tell the difference but the other self, the shadow that haunted her mind and made her older than her years. And the Arya that had trained in Braavos was getting very angry at Gendry for leaving her. The true self, the younger Arya, just wanted to cry.

She stopped near the door and listened. She could hear somebody moving around. She listened harder, she was sure that there was only one person. She summoned her courage and made her way forward, pushing the door wide open. The sight that greeted her made her stop. The room was lit by a single touch, over half of it was packed with crates, some of which had been opened. Gendry was standing over one of the opened crates with a look of wonder on his face, a sheet of something shiny in his hands.

"Gendry?"

He turned at her and smiled. "You're awake. You slept for ages… m'lady. I decided to start having a look around." He patted the keys on his waist that they had taken from the guards. "Some of these keys are very old and I got lucky on this door. Look." He pulled up the shiny thing in his hands, it was a shirt of very fine looking chainmail. He walked over and placed it into her hands.

"Chainmail." She replied, not particularly impressed. It was much lighter than she expected.

Gendry shook his head, a look of excitement in his eyes and a grin on his face. "Not just chainmail, look at it closer. Feel how light it is. It must be hundreds of years old, the silk it was wrapped in had almost rotted away but there is not a hint of rust on it."

Arya held it up to the torch light and looked at it closer, her jaw dropped. "Is it…"

"Valyrian." Gendry answered.

"That would draw a lot of attention." Arya muttered. "It's amazing but it would draw a lot of attention."

"Not if you covered it."

Arya looked at it carefully. It was way too large for her. "I'm far too small to wear this, it might fit you." Suddenly her stomach rumbled and she realised that she needed to relieve herself. "I ah…"

"I found a privy." Gendry said softly. "Even has a tap with running sea water." He grabbed the torch. "Come on, I'll show you."

Arya nodded and let him lead her. "We have running hot and cold water in Winterfell." She said quietly.

"Really?" Gendry asked. "I thought that was just a myth."

Arya shook her head. "Apparently Bran the builder tapped into some deep hot pools, it's best in the first keep, the oldest building, but its plumbed into the other buildings too." She noticed that Gendry wasn't throwing the words, m'lady at her with every sentence. She decided that was a good thing.

~~/~~

As much as it would have been wonderful to keep looking around the room, or see what other treasures could be found in the lower keep, they were both thirsty and hungry. They might find a million weapons here, but they would not find food or drinking water. They agreed that they needed to find a way back into Kings Landing. Gendry put the chainmail on then put his tunic over the top. He'd also found some interesting looking leather armour which looked like it had been made for a young adolescent or a child. He convinced Arya to put the leather armour on. It was too big for her and reminded her of how small she was. He picked up a few other things which he had found, promising that he would show her later, and they made their way back onto the beach.

With the darkness of the corridors Arya had thought that it was night, the bright afternoon sun made her blink and it took her eyes a bit to adjust. Once she could finally see properly she realised that Gendry was staring at her.

"What?" She asked, somewhat defensive.

"That's some strange looking armour." Gendry replied.

She looked down at it and realised that much of it it was a light yellow colour, almost gold. There were bands of black on it, and funny symbols. Possibly Valyrian writing. She ran her hand over it and realised it felt rough, like a lizard-lion… or a dragon. "Dyed?" She asked Gendry.

Gendry shrugged. "Cover it." He muttered.

She nodded and pulled her cloak around her as they made their way to the city gates. There was a caravan of people coming in and they slipped among them. They found one of the cheaper inns and Arya paid for a small room with money from one of the dead guard's purses. The inn was in a bad area of town and Gendry seemed actively worried for her safety. He asked her to sit closest to the wall when they sat down and ordered food and drink.

A young girl and a young man with a war hammer were bound to get attention sooner or later and eventually they did. Some drunk who had been staring at Arya for ages decided to approach, causing Gendry to reach for his hammer.

"Pretty girl." The drunk leered then turned to Gendry. "Nice weapon, what's its name."

"Brother's Love." Gendry replied with a growl. "Now stay away from my sister."

"An' what if I don' wanna." The drunk replied. "Pretty young thing, maybe I wanna break her in. I'll pay you well."

Gendry rose to his feet. "I said, stay away from my sister."

The drunk went to lunge at Arya and Gendry was just about to swing his hammer but another man grabbed the drunk and pulled him away, slamming him against another table and raising a blade to his throat.

"Does a man not know how to listen?" The man who had grabbed him asked. "A man has said he does not want to do business with you. Walk away, or die, it is up to you. This one does not care which you choose." The man, Jaqen H'gar, let the drunk go and the drunk slowly backed away.

"I guess a man chose to live." Jaqen observed as he sat down at the table opposite Gendry.

Gendry was still standing with the hammer in his hands and he looked like he wanted to swing it at Jaqen. Arya tugged on his sleeve. "Sit down." She hissed. "Jaqen isn't here to hurt me."

"A girl seems very sure of that." Jaqen observed as he reached over and picked up a hunk of bread off of her plate.

Arya shrugged. "A girl knows things." She replied. "Gendry, please sit down."

Gendry reluctantly sat back down and sat there glaring at Jaqen. Arya sighed. "Gendry, he could kill you six ways before your hammer landed and dodge the blow. If he wanted you dead you would never see it coming."

"Who is he?" Gendry asked.

"A friend." Arya replied calmly. "He helped me get Sansa."

Gendry shook his head. "You make some strange friends." He muttered.

"And you are not her brother." Jaqen replied calmly. "Does that make you strange, as well?"

Arya sighed then looked at Jaqen. "Is a man hungry?"

"A man could eat." Jaqen replied.

Arya ordered him some food and ale. They sat eating in silence for a while, with Gendry sending the occasional glare at Jaqen. Jaqen seemed amused, not offended. It was Jaqen who finally broke the silence. "A man is curious, why is a girl not on a boat to White Harbor with her family?"

Arya paused, considering her answer. "Valar Dohaeris." She replied slowly. "A girl has her reasons."

Jaqen nodded. He sculled back the last of his ale then placed an old faded coin on the table and pushed it towards her. "Does a girl know what this is?"

Arya nodded and pushed the coin back towards him. "A girl chooses a different path."

"Keep it." Jaqen replied. "A girl may change her mind." He stood up. "Valar Morghulis."

"Valar Dohaeris." Arya replied. She waited until he had gone to pick up the coin with a shaking hand and tuck it away.

"What the hells was that?" Gendry hissed.

"He is an assassin." Arya replied very quietly. "And he just offered to train me."

Gendry swallowed thickly. "Sometimes you really scare me, you know that?"

Arya nodded. "Try being in my head." She muttered. "In my dreams after Melisandre took you away to sacrifice you I ended up with nowhere else to go. My father was dead, my mother and oldest brother were murdered not long after I lost you, I couldn't get to Jon at the Wall, Sansa was a prisoner, and everyone believed Theon had murdered my other two brothers. Winterfell had been sacked and burnt, then taken over by the Bolton's… I know what it means to accept that offer."

Gendry looked at her in shock. "You wouldn't…"

Arya looked at him sadly. She wanted to tell him that if he promised her he wouldn't leave her she wouldn't go to Braavos. She wanted to make him swear that he wouldn't do something stupid like joining the brotherhood without banners. But the words choked in her throat.

"Help me." She whispered quietly. "There is so much in my head that I can't escape. I can't do this alone. Help me."

"I'll help you." Gendry promised.

~~/~~


	2. Chapters 6 - 10

Part 6:

Finding Robert's bastards was easier that Arya had thought. They decided that the best one to start with was a two year old boy named Orys. His uncle was a powerful merchant who ran ships between Westeros and Essos and the plan was to convince his mother that Westeros was no longer safe. The mother was sceptical at first but Arya took a risk and told the woman who she was. Arya let the cloak slip away a little to reveal her sword and armour, making it clear that she was not just some low born. Gendry made sure to address Arya with 'M'lady' every chance he got and the woman was packing even before they left. Orys was on a boat to Essos before mid-morning.

The next one they went to was Lucerys, known as Luke. He was the only one with a real family. The seven year old had three other siblings and was raised by his mother and aunt. They all had well-tanned skin. Luke's mother took one look at Gendry and hugged him, quite to his surprise. She wanted to help the other children so Arya gave her some money to arrange a couple of carts and horses and they agreed on a meeting place that others could be sent to.

Their third stop was a Tailor's on Silk Lane and they were getting quite confident by then. Elenei Waters, known as Ella, wasn't having any of it however. She was a nine year old orphan who worked for a Tailor and she had the Stormlands in her blood. She wasn't about to have anybody tell her what to do. After a yelling match with Gendry in which she basically said that nobody had ever cared for her except her master and why should she care for what they thought, her master pulled her aside and spoke with her.

He had long suspected the truth of her parentage and didn't want the trouble. He sent her away with 5 bolts of silk – 15 bolts of other fabric and enough clothing and other stuff to fill half of one of the carts Luke's mother had gotten. With her skills and the stock, she had a good chance of building herself a new future and it made their small wagon look far less suspicious with items to trade. Ella flicked her long black curls defiantly and refused the kindness offered by Luke's mother but she did get on the cart.

It was about 2pm in the afternoon what they found eight year old Robar. Little Rob, as he was known, was a stable hand. His master cared little for him so Arya bought four horses and got him thrown into the deal for free. She got the lot for one of the gems in one of Varys' pouches. She took advantage of the fact that her armour was the colours of house Baratheon and pretended to be a Nobel from Tarth, claiming Brienne as her cousin. Little Rob skulked all the way to the carts, but his attitude changed greatly when he was introduced to some of his brothers and his sister and told the truth. Luke's mother and aunt accepted him immediately. Their little family was starting to come together quite nicely.

Five year old Argella was being raised by her older sister, Mary, who was pregnant and also had a young child of her own. They were poor and struggling, and when Arya said she had come for the little girl as she was in danger her sister's husband offered her the other child as well. Arya took one look at the bruises on Mary's face and agreed saying she was taking Mary too. The husband didn't like that idea and tried to attack her, Gendry took him down in one swing of the hammer.

It was at this stage that they decided they needed another cart. Gendry took the risk of going by Tobho Mott's and was pleasantly surprised that the blacksmith gave him some of the weapons he had forged to trade and let him take some of his tools with him, Arya also suspected that Gendry had shown Tobho the chainmail, and given him something found under the keep in return, but she had been too busy buying the third cart to know.

It was late in the day, with only one name left on the list, Barra. Arya had intentionally left the name to last. She reluctantly removed her armour and placed it in one of the cats along with her weapons.

"What are you doing?" Gendry asked.

"Anything I take in when I go to Littlefinger I'm unlikely to take out." She replied. "He's a manipulator, the more defenceless I look the safer I am."

Gendry shook his head. "You're going in unarmed?"

"Worse than that, unarmed and injured. I need you to hit me in the face."

"Uh-uh, no way! I am not hitting you! This is a stupid plan." Gendry protested.

"Okay." Arya agreed. She walked over to Elenei. "I need to look weak in front of a dangerous man to get close to your youngest sister, can you hit me in the face please?" The nine year old smiled and punched her in the face, hard, she landed a second blow before Gendry stopped her. Arya tasted blood on her lip and smiled. "That should be convincing." She said gently.

Gendry looked from one to the other and back again. "I'm not sure which of you is worse?" He muttered.

~~/~~

"Why do I never like any of your plans?" Gendry asked as they lurked in an alleyway near Littlefinger's main brothel.

"Because you're a good person, and you want to protect me, but my plans don't let you do that." Arya replied. She rubbed at the bruise on her cheekbone. "Ella punches hard."

"Or maybe you just take too many risks." Gendry replied.

"We don't have time to take less risks." Arya argued. "Once we have Barra and are out of Kings Landing I'll be more careful, I promise."

"I still say there has to be another way." Gendry muttered.

"Well give me a better plan and we'll do it." Arya replied in exasperation. Suddenly she saw Littlefinger approaching the brothel. "Too late." She muttered and ran out of the alleyway. She ran halfway into the street and stopped. "Lord Baelish?"

Littlefinger stopped mid stride and turned to look at her. He recognised her immediately. "Hello little one." He took a couple of steps towards her and she took a couple of steps back, genuine fear in her eyes. He held his hands open and wide in a gesture to show he meant her no harm. "Easy, I'm not going to hurt you."

He took a couple of steps forward and Arya forced herself not to run. "Please." She whispered. "I don't know where else to go. Please help me."

Littlefinger smiled. "Of course I'll help you." He took a couple more steps closer. Arya couldn't stop herself from taking a step back. "Why, you're a frightened little thing, aren't you." He held out his hand. "Come here, I'm not going to hurt you."

Arya hesitantly walked towards him and took his outstretched hand. "Good girl." He muttered and wrapped his cloak around her. "Let's get you inside."

"You won't hand me over?" Arya asked.

He reached down and tilted her chin up so that she was looking him in the eye. "I not planning to just hand you over to anyone, I promise. You can trust your uncle Petyr." He murmured. He stroked her hair. "I've got you." His smile deepened. "Don't worry, little pup, I've got you. I can't wait to tell Cait I have you."

She forced herself to ignore the look in his eyes and lean against him allowing him to lead her inside.

Littlefinger led her to his office. "Gods, you're a mess, aren't you. What happened to the direwolves?"

Arya looked down. "Gone." She muttered.

"And your little sword? I see that's gone too." Arya nodded sadly.

"Don't worry, uncle Petyr has you now. Let's get you cleaned up and get you some food." He gestured to a red-headed woman. "Ros, who don't you help our little guest get cleaned up."

Ros took a look at Arya and gasped then lowered her eyes. "Of course, lord Baelish."

Littlefinger smiled. "You recognise our little guest?" Ros nodded. "Ros here is a northerner." He informed Arya. "She'll help keep you safe."

~~/~~

Arya tried not to complain as Ros helped her out of her dirty clothes and put her in a bath. She heard Ros gasp and realised that there must be bruises on her arms and back from the rowing. She let Ros undo her hair and wash it. She even tried not to complain when she was put into a dress. Ros brought her some food and then started brushing her hair.

As much as Arya knew she wasn't safe she felt guilty that she was getting a bath and good food while Gendry was lurking outside worrying about her. She had to admit that she was very hungry, and she knew that Ros would be reporting her every action back to Littlefinger, so she made no attempt to be ladylike when it came to scoffing down the food.

"You poor thing." Ros muttered as she braided Arya's hair. "When did you last eat."

Arya shrugged, the truth was that she could pack away a surprising amount of food for her small size, and she didn't know when her next good meal would be. When the second lot of food was brought in she ate it slower. Ros was being very kind to her and she decided to be kind in return.

"Lord Baelish says you are a northerner." Arya said quietly. "Where are you from?"

"I grew up outside Winterfell." Ros said with a smiling voice. "That's why I recognised you, I've seen you since you were a baby, my lady."

"My lady," Arya muttered. "You're educated?" Ros nodded. "Can you read?"

"Yes, my lady."

Arya thought about that for a moment. "Does lord Baelish know that you can read?"

The smile seemed to leave Ros' voice. "Yes, he is aware that I can read."

Lord Baelish came in. "Oh that's much better." He said looking her over. "Does that feel better?"

Arya nodded. "Yes, Lord Baelish."

Littlefinger shook his head. "Please, Arya, call me uncle Petyr, after all your mother and I were raised together, we're practically family."

Arya nodded. "Thank you, uncle Petyr."

Littlefinger smiled and nodded. "Good, good. You must be tired. Why don't you lay down on that couch for a while, I need to steal Ros away from you for a bit. Ros, get her a blanket."

Arya nodded and grabbed one of the pillows on the couch. "Uncle Petyr?" She asked. "Will you be long?"

Littlefinger smiled. "Not too long little pup."

Arya waited until she was sure he was gone and started looking around the office. Everything was carefully stacked. Littlefinger was a cautious man and none of the papers on the desk looked to be of consequence. Her eyes were quickly drawn to the dagger on the desk. She _knew_ that dagger! Valyrian steel and dragon glass. Before her mind could register what she was doing she had already picked it up.

She drew the blade, admiring the feel of it in her hand. She needed to set her mind at ease, slowly she started practicing her water dancing. It was different moving in a dress, she found she had to move her legs differently so as not to get caught up. She let her mind empty and focused on the blade in her hand, focused on the steps, the moves. A part of her mind remembered slitting Littlefinger's throat with that blade. She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear Littlefinger re-enter the room. She turned and realised that he had been watching her for some time.

"I'm sorry." She muttered placing the blade back on the desk. "I know I shouldn't have touched it, I just, I wanted to know what it felt like."

Littlefinger nodded. "You like weapons, don't you little pup? Your aunt Lyanna was the same."

"It's beautiful." Arya agreed. "Where did you get it from?"

Littlefinger smiled. "You mother brought it here, weeks ago, she travelled here in secret to ask for my help, she needed me to tell her who it had belonged to. Somebody used it to try and kill your brother, Bran."

Arya shook her head in shock. "You're saying my mother was here? Why didn't she come visit us? Why didn't Father tell us?"

Littlefinger smiled and she could see that she had given him exactly the reaction that he wanted. "As I said, she was here in secret."

Arya nodded, it was a shock that her mother had been in Kings Landing and not come to see her but it was a shock that she would have to deal with later. "Did you tell her who it belonged to?"

Littlefinger nodded. "It was Tyrion Lannister's." He picked the dagger up and handed it back to her, hilt first. "Here, you keep it, it will make you feel safer."

Arya looked at him in genuine astonishment. "No, uncle Petyr, I can't take it."

"Take it, little pup. I can see how happy it made you. It's a gift, and it would be rude to refuse a gift now, wouldn't it?"

Arya nodded. "But what gift do I have to give you in return?" She knew exactly what gift she wanted to give him.

Littlefinger laughed. "Child, you are a gift. Now come, let's write your mother a letter so that she knows you are safe."

Arya nodded. She still wasn't sure how she was going to get to Barra but she knew she needed to do as Littlefinger asked. At least she had a weapon now. Her mind drifted to Gendry and she wondered how worried he must be.

~~/~~

 _Dearest Mother,_

 _I am safe. I cannot tell you where I am right now but know that I am safe and I have somebody protecting me._ _G_ _I cannot come north right now, I do not know how long it will be before we see each other again, but do not worry about me. Give my brothers my love._

 _Love Arya._

Arya looked down at the letter, she was sure that the crossed out G was too subtle, but she hoped that somehow her father would understand. She gave it to Littlefinger and he looked at it approvingly.

"Clever girl. If the letter gets into the wrong hands it doesn't say where you are." He smiled at her but his eyes held a mix of admiration and concern. Arya realised that he was starting to worry just how clever she was. He quickly wrote a letter himself. He left the room shortly after to arrange for the letters to be sent.

Arya sat down on the couch. It was starting to get dark outside, this was all taking a lot longer than she had hopped. She looked up at Littlefinger as he came back into the room."

"Uncle Petyr, do you have any books I can read?" She asked quietly.

He looked up at her. "I'm sorry, little one, you must be getting quite bored, aren't you?" Arya nodded. He frowned. "I don't think most of my books are suitable for a little lady, but I'll see what I can find, are you looking for anything in particular."

Arya pulled a face. "I'd even read a history on house Targaryen right now."

Littlefinger laughed. "I'll see what I can find."

Arya nodded. "Or maybe…" She shook her head.

"Maybe what?" Littlefinger asked.

Arya continued to shake her head. "No, I shouldn't ask."

Littlefinger walked over to her, he placed a hand on each of her shoulders. "Arya, I want you to trust me, ask."

"I don't even know if it's true." Arya said quietly. "It's just a rumour I heard."

Littlefinger knelt down in front of her. "Rumours are interesting things, tell me."

"I heard… I overheard Father talking about a baby, a little girl, that might be Robert Baratheon's."

She knew she had Littlefinger's attention now. "Who was he talking to?"

"One of his men." Arya replied quietly. "He sent him to go talk to Stannis."

"And when was this?" Littlefinger asked.

"The day before… the day before everything went bad." Arya muttered. She let her face screw up at the last word.

Littlefinger looked thoughtful. "And you want to see this baby for yourself?" Arya nodded. Littlefinger stood up and held out his hand. Arya took it slowly. "Come on." He said and led her out of the room.

~~/~~

Ros was in the room that he led her too, along with another woman and a baby. Arya was hesitant, she didn't want to seem too eager so she hung back when Littlefinger entered the room. The child's mother was named Mhaegen and she was eager to show her baby off. She seemed sweet, but a little stupid, the true meaning of the term 'dumb whore'. Mhaegen was understandably devastated about Robert Baratheon's death, the poor woman thought that she was in love with him. Barra was placed into Arya's arms and she held her tightly, wondering how the hells she was going to get her out.

"Mhaegen, can our young guest stay with you and Barra tonight?" Littlefinger asked, seeming satisfied that he had a way to keep Arya entertained that wouldn't be bad for business.

Arya could already see that he was plotting. Maybe he thought that if she got attached to Barra he would be able to offload the baby onto her and get Mhaegen back to work sooner? She sat down on the edge of the bed and rocked Barra in her arms. "Would that be okay?" She asked gently.

Mhaegen nodded so hard it looked like her head was about to drop off. "Yes, if Lord Baelish is okay with it, that would be okay."

Arya stroked Barra's head gently. How the hells was she going to care for this baby if she didn't take her mother with her? How the hells could she take Mhaegen with her? The woman would be a liability. How was she even going to get out of here? Suddenly she heard people yelling. She was out of time. She quickly pushed Barra into Mhaegen's arms and drew her dagger.

"Easy, little pup, I'll handle this." Littlefinger said turning towards the door.

"Uncle Petyr?" Arya said as she stepped closer, causing him to turn around. He turned to look at her and she slit his throat. Mhaegen screamed but Ros clamped her hand over the other woman's mouth. "They're coming for Barra." Arya exclaimed as she ripped the child from her mother's arms and ran towards the window. She was halfway over the balcony before Mhaegen and Ros caught up.

It was difficult climbing over the balcony with a baby in her arms. They were on the second floor and Arya could see two men outside wearing Stannis' new sigil which included the flaming heart. Gendry must have seen her coming because he came flying out of the shadows with his war hammer. Both men were down before they knew what was coming. Arya slipped and found herself hanging by her arm but Gendry was quickly under her.

"I'll catch you." He called out.

She held Barra close and put her faith in Gendry, letting go. Gendry caught her and gently placed her on the ground, she looked up to see Ros and Mhaegen trying to climb over the balcony after her.

"Can you catch them?" Arya asked.

Gendry nodded. Ros jumped first, then Mhaegen. Once Mhaegen's feet hit the ground they started running. Mhaegen was sobbing but Ros kept pulling her along. Gendry lead them along the back alley's twisting and turning until they reached the carts and horses, as soon as they were piled into the back of one of the carts the little caravan took off, leaving Kings Landing and heading south along the Kings road. Mhaegen held Barra and sobbed. Ros, however, was a northerner and made of tougher stuff. She just looked at Arya in wonder.

"I knew you were there for a reason, my lady." Ros muttered. "I knew you were too smart to trust him. How many bastards have you saved?"

It was Gendry that answered. "Seven, including me." He looked at Arya. "How many did you have to kill this time?" He asked, looking at the blood splatter on her face, hand, and dress.

"Just one." Arya replied. "A dangerous man, he's the one that betrayed my father."

Gendry nodded. "Messy kill." He muttered, he swallowed thickly. "Can we stop killing now?"

"Hopefully." Arya replied. _'For a while, anyway.'_ The other Arya answered.

~~/~~

Part 7:

Their small group of sixteen, mostly women and children, had quickly grown along the road. They had teamed up with other smaller groups creating a larger caravan. None of the groups seemed to care where they were going as long as they were going in a somewhat south direction, away from the war. So the group meandered along the roads, turning left or right as they pleased and trading their way slowly south, or east, or west, but kind of southwards. Sometimes they would stop at a village for two or three days if the trading was good or there was work to be had.

They had been traveling for about two weeks. Arya now openly rode in her strange yellow and black leather armour, but Gendry still hid his Valyrian chainmail. The links were so fine, and it was so well crafted, that unless you looked you could hardly know it was there under his tunic. Ros loved doing Arya's hair in various northern styles and, although Arya would never actually admit it, there was something nice about letting somebody style her hair. Besides, if Arya refused to let Ros play with her hair Ros would try to do Ella's hair, and that just wasn't happening.

Mary and Mhaegen had gotten close, and Arya had learnt that Mary's young child was a boy named Albin, he was a little under two and still being nursed so the two young mothers took turns nursing both children. It turned out that Mhaegen had been forced into prostitution, and didn't want to go back to it, so Ella had started teaching her how to sew.

Ros was a different story. She worked the caravans, and would drop coins into Arya's lap every morning, Arya didn't like it, but Ros pointed out that it was her choice and she enjoyed it, whenever Arya tried to argue Ros would suggest that she could always stay with them and 'break Gendry in' for when Arya was older. A comment never made in the presence of Gendry, although Ros did enjoy trying to find new ways to make him blush.

Robar would tend to the horses or spend time playing with Lucerys and his siblings, and Argella was always somehow in the middle of it. It was nice to watch Gendry watching them. He had only comment once at the age difference, to which Arya had sadly informed him that she knew Cersei had had at least some of his siblings killed. Although she only knew about the twins had to a Lannister servant for sure.

It was a bright sunny day, they had encountered a caravan going the other way and stopped to trade. Gendry was mending somebody's armour and Ros was nowhere to be seen. They had stopped near a small creek and some of the children were playing in it. Arya was sitting in the long grass watching them when she was suddenly pulled into what could only loosely be called sleep.

 _She was back at Winterfell, the stony corridors felt cool against the pads of her paws. She could smell Shaggy Dog and went off in search of him and Rickon. She howled at a door and a guard opened it for her, letting her into the snow dusted courtyard. She quickly picked up the scents of Grey Wind, Robb, and Father as well. They were training with the bow. Shaggy Dog ran up to her and rubbed his muzzle against hers, they sniffed each other for a while then she went to greet Grey Wind. Robb scratched her ear on the way past._

 _They were talking about the war, her Father wanted Robb to stay at Winterfell while he went south to fight. Robb didn't like it, but at the end of the day he was an obedient son, he would stay. She caught the scent of Lady and soon found Sansa and her mother sewing. Lady lifted her head but Arya left them be. She padded off in search of Summer and Bran. She found them with Holder underneath the Weirtree in the Gods wood. Arya paused and looked down at her reflection in the black pool, but it was Nymeria's reflection that looked back up at her. She lifted her head and padded over towards Bran._

 _"Arya, I wondered when you would visit." Bran said quietly as he stroked her fur. "Mother and Father don't understand why you didn't come home. They'll understand even less when I leave. And Nymeria need to leave soon too. But I guess that's why you're warging her, so she can show you that everyone is safe before she leaves."_

 _Arya rubbed her jaw against Bran's face._

 _"I miss you too." He muttered. "I remember some of it, I'll try not to let him touch me in the dream this time, that's how he broke the magic protecting Winterfell… because of me."_

 _Arya could hear the sadness in his voice, it was strange to think that he had memories of the other life too. She wished that she could give him a message to give to their parents, that he could explain it to them, but she knew their parents couldn't hear it. In their parents eyes she was just a little girl and he was just a broken boy. How could they ever understand that he was the three-eyed raven? How could they understand that her path didn't lead home? They couldn't. She nuzzled closer to Bran, wishing him to be safe. He hugged her tightly._

 _"You need to go now, Arya, you're scaring Gendry. Wake up."_

"Wake up, Arya, please, you're scaring me, wake up." Gendry pleaded.

Arya slowly blinked. The sun had gotten a lot lower in the sky. Gendry was kneeling in the grass beside her, a look of concern on his face, Ros was on the other side of her. Arya blinked a couple more times and looked up at Gendry.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Nobody could wake you." He replied, fear in his voice. "What happened?" He asked more quietly, but Ros didn't miss the tone of his question.

"I'm sorry." Arya said quietly. "I was warging Nymeria, I didn't mean to do it, it was an accident."

Gendry frowned. "What do you mean warging?"

"Shh." Ros said. "Not here, get her to the cart."

Arya went to stand and swayed, Gendry caught her and the three made their way to the cart, Ros telling everybody that Arya would be fine and they had things under control. As soon as they were in the cart both Ros and Gendry turned on her at once.

"What is warging?" Gendry asked.

"Where is Nymeria?" Ros asked at the same time.

Arya chose to answer Ros's question. "Winterfell." She replied. "But she'll be leaving soon, that's why she wanted me to see that everyone is safe."

"You're telling me you transferred your mind into a direwolf that is thousands of miles away?" Ros asked in shock.

"What do you mean, transferred her mind?" Gendry asked.

Ros waved away his question and shook her head. "There hasn't been a known warg south of the wall for hundreds of years." She muttered ignoring Gendry.

"Well now there are six." Arya replied. "Actually Jon is currently north of the wall, five."

Ros' jaw dropped even lower if possible. "How do you know Jon is north of the wall?"

"Ghost." Arya replied matter of fact.

Ros just shook her head. "So you can feel your sister and brothers' direwolves as well?" Arya nodded. "Gods, greenseers every one of you, how can you handle being so far away from Weirwoods?"

Arya swallowed. "This is where I need to be right now." She frowned. "You believe me, why do you believe me?"

Ros gave her a gentle smile. "I told you, I grew up just outside of Winterfell, I've watched your family your whole life, I saw how you all changed when you got the direwolves, well all but Sansa, are you sure she's a warg?"

Arya nodded. "There's more wolf in her than she admits, trust me, I've lived my life on the receiving end."

Ros laughed. "Only a Stark." She muttered. "How long til winter?"

"A few years." Arya replied. "But we won't be prepared for it. There is a lot of war to come, and next winter will be the worst in a thousand years."

"Why." Ros asked.

"Because the Night King is coming." Arya replied flatly. "And he's worked out how to break the Wall."

"You've seen this?" Gendry asked. Arya nodded.

"So you do see things." Ros muttered, the way she said it confirming that she had already suspected. "What do we do?"

"Go to the place least affected by the wars over the Iron Throne and convince them to believe me." Arya replied.

"And where is that?" Ros asked.

"Dorne." Arya replied. "I think my best bet is Starfall, there is a chance house Dayne will listen."

Ros nodded. "I may be just a simple whore… but I'm with you."

"You're more than just a whore, and you're not simple." Arya replied.

"But I am a whore. I don't know how I can be useful, but I will try, my lady."

~~/~~

Part 8:

Weeks turned into months. There was no hurry to get to Dorne and no guarantee that they would be safe there. Arya had confided more in Gendry and Ros, she had told them mostly about what she had changed. They knew the basics, how her father should have lost his head, how Gendry would have been sold without knowing who his father was, about how the Kings Guard would have killed the other children and come after him. How the Lannister men would have come when Yoren wouldn't give him up, about being prisoners at Harrenhal. How Tywin Lannister's arrival had ironically saved Gendry's life and how Tywin had made her his cup bearer, never realising who she was.

She left plenty out. She never mentioned Jaqen H'gar or her list of names. She wouldn't talk about how they had escaped Harrenhal. She told them about Melisandre, and how Stannis would end up burning his own daughter alive, she told them about Ser Davos, the little that she actually knew. She told them about Daenerys, and the dragons, and how the Night King had gained control of one. She explained that Bran was the next Three Eyed Raven. She wouldn't tell them how she had been able to come back, only that it was old magic and that the cost was very high.

The three agreed that the safest bet was to keep moving for now. They never stayed with any caravan too long, often joining another one that was going the opposite way. They had been attacked by bandits a few times, Arya and Gendry showing the fighters from the other wagons that they were worth their salt.

Nobody used Arya's name, except in private, and the fighters from the other wagons had started to call her 'The Yellow Lady'. In fact, their caravan was now known as the caravan of the yellow lady, and Lucerys' Aunt had even painted a stylised image of a dark haired girl in yellow and black armour on the sides of their wagons. Robar had even seen a beautiful, if somewhat overweight, pale mare amongst one of the other wagons and asked Arya's permission to trade for it, offering her chestnut mere and two days work in return.

There had been a hint of mischief in Robar's eyes when he had made the suggestion and Arya had found that she couldn't refuse him. If her people wanted their yellow lady to ride a pale horse then she would. Gendry was most amused, although he was less amused when Robar informed him that his horse, which he had become quite fond of, was getting traded for a black mere. That trade was more expensive as it involved the re-shoeing of eight horses and Robar made Gendry help. Gendry was quite affronted, as the black horse was also clearly overweight.

"What is it with you and fat horses?" Gendry had asked in exasperation.

"You'll understand in a month." Robar had replied cryptically. "If you don't like it then ride another, but it was your horse they wanted for the trade."

"But why trade?" Gendry had replied. "I like my horse!"

Robar had just laughed. "I'll tell you in a month."

It was odd, Robar seemed to want the horse for Gendry, but then went about actively discouraging him from riding it. But whatever his reasons being allowed to make the trade made him happy so Gendry finally gave in. A week later Robar confessed that both mares were in foal, causing Arya to immediately stop riding the pale horse.

~~/~~

A few weeks later the caravan had wandered off of the King's Highway and was going down a dirt road when blood-red leaves caught Arya's eye. She paused her horse and looked closer, seeing bone-white bark through the trees. A Weirwood tree! They were rare this far south, and the sight was quite a shock.

"Stop the caravan!" She yelled. The cart that Ros was driving came to a halt and she lashed her horse to it and dismounted without a word. The tree was well back from the road, with other trees in front of it, and she had almost missed it. She approached it quickly, then paused as it fully came into sight. It was a lot smaller than the tree at Winterfell. The face carved into it was facing the road and the eyes seemed to watch her as she approached.

Memories flooded back of the gods-wood at Winterfell, but they were not the memories of the younger Arya, they were the memories of the older self.

 _…She was covered in blood, Jon's blood, the Night King had cut him down… the many-faced god would have them all now._

 _…Bran was there… She looked at Sansa kneeling over Jon's body, sobbing…_

 _…Bran's hand over hers, he forced her to unsheathe her dagger… he was talking… telling her how to build the spell… she didn't want to do it… she didn't have a choice… they were already dead… she walked up to Sansa and wrapped her arms around her…_

 _…She felt the heat of Sansa's blood pouring over her hand… Bran was next…_

 _… She drove the dagger into her own gut… Death, all I bring is death… how can I save us? How can I save anyone?_

Arya reached out her left hand and let her fingertips brush the bark of the Weirwood, tears streamed down her face. She ran her hand over the tree tenderly, caressed the face. She wrapped her arms around the tree and hugged it tightly as she sobbed. She didn't want to be this angry person anymore. She felt so lost, her dreams were full of blood and death, much of it at her own hands. She was so lost, how could she save anyone if she couldn't save herself?

She suddenly understood why she had been delaying going to Dorne. She was afraid, if her plan failed she didn't know what she would do, as long as they travelled but didn't arrive there was hope. She let all of her fears and hopes flood into the tree, all of her visions, all of her nightmares, all of her hopes and fears. She cried until there were no tears left, and she clung to the tree still.

"I need to find a different way." She whispered against the tree trunk. "A better way. I choose a different path. Show me a different path." She pleaded.

She suddenly remembered the coin in her pocket, the token of the faceless men. If she really meant her words she needed to rid herself of it. She pulled away from the tree and drew the coin out of her pocket, she turned it over in her hands, thinking of all the pain and promise that it represented. She drew her dagger and dug a small hole in the soil at the base of the tree, she put the coin in and covered it up.

"I choose a different path." She whispered, she looked up at the tree and repeated the words louder. "I choose a different path." She wiped the soil off of her dagger and put it way, pressing her soil-smeared hand against the tree as she stood. "Show me a different path." She pleaded of the tree. That was when the visions hit.

~~/~~

Winterfell. A young Ned Stark, still a boy, sparing with an even younger Benjin, each with sword and shield in hand, Benjin fell to the ground and Ned stepped back.

"Give him another go, Ned." His older brother, Brandon, instructed.

Ned helped Benjin to his feet. "Keep your shield up, or I'll ring your head like a bell." He told his little brother.

Young Benjin nodded. The word's seemed harsh, but the gentleness with which Ned delivered them showed that he didn't like this any more than Benjin did. He let Benjin have a number of free strikes, only blocking… In that moment Arya understood how different her father and her uncle Brandon were. Brandon seemed to lack the compassion for his younger siblings.

Lyanna came riding in on a white horse. She rode around and round her brothers, showing how much control she had over the horse. But Arya could feel her yearning, her sense of injustice. Benjin didn't want to learn to use a sword, yet he was forced to, Lyanna did want to learn but she was not allowed. Not that anybody could truly stop her from training, as long as her father didn't catch her. Arya realised with a sense of shock that Lyanna had also believed the rules were wrong…

The vale, Ned and Robert Baratheon training together under the watchful eye of Lord Royce, a servant girl watching… Robert was showing off but Arya suspected her father let him win.

Winterfell again, an older Ned, and an older Lyanna, maybe fourteen years old? Lyanna was expressing concerns about her betrothal to Robert. "Love is sweet, brother, but it cannot change a man."

Ned tried to reassure her, but Arya could feel her father had concerns as well.

Suddenly Arya was at the tournament at Harrenhal… three squires kicking a man on the ground and calling him a frog eater, the man was in the colours of house Reed.

"That's my father's man you're kicking!" Lyanna Stark yelled, she must have been about fifteen years old yet she grabbed a tournament sword like a seasoned fighter… after rescuing the man, Howland Reed, she took him to her tent and tended to his wounds. Arya again found that she could not so much hear the thoughts of the people she was watching but feel their emotions, their intents. Howland Reed was already sworn to house Stark, but if the day ever came where he had to choose between one Stark and another, Lyanna Stark was here his loyalty's now lay… although gentle Ned came a close second.

The scene shifted, still Harrenhal, but it was a dinner now, the likes of which Arya had never seen. Prince Rhaegar started to play and sing, a sad and heartfelt song, and the wash of emotion coming off of Lyanna left Arya reeling. This was not how they had been told things had happened! Not that her father would ever talk about it, but the stories from others…

But Lyanna was not the only Stark who's emotions were assaulting Arya, she followed her father's gaze to a beautiful woman with black hair and violet eyes, Ashara Dayne, Arya looked around the table and saw that her uncle Brandon was watching her father… when it became clear that Ned would not find the courage to ask the woman to dance uncle Brandon put him on the spot by asking on his behalf. Brandon seemed to take some joy in making fun of Ned's shyness, but as Brandon watched them dance Arya picked up more sinister feelings off of her uncle as well. Brandon had held no interest in Ashara until she had shown interest in Ned… as the dance came to an end the hall drew quite at the arrival of the Mad King…

Arya picked up the wave of rage and hate off of Tywin Lannister as Jamie, his son and heir, was ordered to swear the oaths of the Kings Guard, and then promptly sent away to the Red Keep, not even being allowed to see the end of the tournament. While the hall cheered a cold man's heart grew colder. Arya noticed that young Tyrion sank further into his chair, trying to avoid his father's attention, and reached for more wine.

Still Harrenhal, it was the next day and later in the afternoon as a mystery knight in ill-fitting armour came onto the field, their shield showing a laughing Weirwood… The rage of the she-wolf was as strong as her sense of justice, and justice was what Lyanna delivered, but the mad king decelerated her an enemy and she quickly had more than her father's rage to worry about should she be caught… she had dispatched of the armour and was just hanging the shield on a tree when a voice made her freeze in fear.

"It seems my father would have your head, I would simply have your name." Prince Rhaegar said from behind her.

Lyanna straightened her back and squared her shoulders as she turned to face him. "Lyanna Stark, of Winterfell." She replied.

"I am impressed." Rhaegar answered. "A lesser warrior may have tried to lie. How old are you, Lyanna?"

"Fifteen." Lyanna replied meeting his gaze. She intentionally omitted the words 'your grace'.

"And Lord Stark allows you to use a sword?"

Lyanna smiled. "No, not at all." She replied. "I am strictly forbidden, and all have been forbidden to train me." Again she did not call the prince 'your grace'.

Prince Rhaegar laughed. "Your secret is safe with me, but you'd best be getting away from here before another sees you. A pity really, I would have liked to know how I would have fared against you on the field."

"You would have lost." Lyanna replied calmly and walked away.

"I think I already have." Prince Rhaegar replied quietly to her retreating form. It was hard to tell if Lyanna heard the comment or not.

~~/~~

The Weirwood tree suddenly came into focus in front of her. She was on her knees in front of it, she realised that her head was on Gendry's shoulder and his arm was around her, he must have caught her when the visions hit and she fell. She took another moment to get her bearings before turning to look up at him.

"How long?" She whispered.

"A few hours." Gendry replied. "What did you see?"

Arya lent into him and thought about the answer. "The Tournament at Harrenhal." She finally answered. "I know who the mystery knight was."

"Who?" Gendry asked, the story of the mystery knight was a story that all knew from one perspective or another.

"My Aunt Lyanna." Arya replied. "Prince Rhaegar found her out but kept her secret."

"That doesn't make sense." Gendry muttered.

Arya nodded. "I think… I'm not so sure that she wanted to marry Robert Baratheon, or that she was taken against her will."

Gendry sat in silence for a while. Arya continued to lean against him, enjoying the comfort of his presence. Both were lost in their thoughts of what it would mean if Lyanna Stark had not been taken against her will. "If it's true, you realise what that means?" He whispered. Arya nodded. "Are you sure it's true?"

Arya shook her head. "I'm not sure of anything anymore." She replied. "But I know the truth lies in Drone."

They sat quietly for a little while before Gendry stood and helped Arya to her feet. They walked slowly back to the caravans, only those with the yellow lady painted on the side had waited, the rest moving on. Camp had been set up and food was cooking. Once Arya and Gendry returned Ros quietly made her way to the tree. Arya decided that it was time that the rest of their little group knew more of the truth.

With Gendry's help she started to explain to them about her visions, and the threats of Melisandre and Joffrey, about the coming winter and what it would bring with it, and about her reasons for choosing Starfall as a possible haven. By the time Ros had returned the small group had agreed that it was time to start properly making their way south. However Robar was concerned that the two pregnant mares would require them to stay in one place for a while.

As if to prove him right, the pale mare when into labour in the early hour of the morning. She fought against her lead and Robar untied her, letting her move to where she felt most comfortable. The pale mare immediately made her way to the foot of the Weirwood. The black mare wanted to follow so Arya untied her. By the next afternoon both mares had birthed their foals and, to the surprise of everybody but Robar, both mares delivered twins.

"I can always pick it." Robar declared. "My old master said one in ten thousand mares have twins. I found three while working for him, and I found these two. And no foal I've helped deliver has ever died."

"That's an interesting gift." Ros muttered.

They stayed camping near the Weirwood for about a week while the four foals got strong enough to travel. Arya hunted rabbits and taught Robar and Lucerys how to hold a sword. Lucerys' older brother, Cade, wanted to learn how to use a bow so Arya spent some time teaching him. She noticed Lucerys' sister, Aleena, watching and gave her some lessons as well. She was careful to tell Gendry before approaching the Weirwood tree again, in case she was hit by more visons, but apparently the tree didn't want to show here anything else. Perhaps it was too busy absorbing the afterbirth from the horses? Or perhaps she wasn't ready?

~~/~~

Part 9:

The foals were stronger and Robar had declared them fit for travel, they had agreed to leave the next morning. The afternoon was warm and Ros had kept watch while Arya bathed in the nearby stream, for once Arya had her long black hair out and was letting it dry. She had on pants and a light shirt, having decided not to put her armour back on until morning. Arya watched some bees move from flower to flower and old Nan's stories of Ellyn Ever Sweet came to mind. Arya tried to remember the names of all of Garth Greenhand's children.

"Garth the Gardener," She muttered. "High King of the First Men and founder of House Gardner, who's seat was Highgarden, now held by House Tyrell, growing strong. John the Oak, bringer of chivalry and fonder of House Oakheart, our roots go deep." She frowned, trying to think who was next. "Ros, who was the wine demigod? The founder of House Redwyne."

"Gilbert, my Lady." Ros replied with an amused smile on her face.

Arya nodded. "Gilbert of the vines. Florys the Fox, who kept three husbands, becoming the mother of House Florent, House Ball and House Peake." Arya frowned. "Three husband's sounds like a lot of work."

Ros laughed. "Keeping them from knowing about each other and giving the right child to the right father sounds harder. But she's supposed to be a daughter of a fertility god so who can say?" She shrugged. "I always thought Maris the Maid was more interesting. Fifty men vying for her hand, but instead of marrying the winner she ran off with Uthor of the High Tower instead."

Arya nodded. "Foss the Archer, founder of House Fossoway of Cider Hall, a taste of glory."

Ros smirked. "A taste for women too, if the stories about him shooting apples off of the heads of fair maids are to be believed."

Arya rolled her eyes. "You do the next one then."

Ros shook her head. "Oh no, Lady Stark, the next one is all yours. He's supposed to be your ancestor after all."

Arya nodded. "Brandon of the Bloody Blade." She said quietly. "He who drove away the giants, and slew so many children of the forest that he turned Rose's blue lake red. Founder of House Stark and possibly the father of Bran the Builder. Winter is coming."

Ros took up the next one. "Owen Oakenshield, conquer of Shield Islands, who drove the selkies and merlings back into the sea. The twins are next, Harlon the Hunter and Herndon of the Horn who shared a woods-witch and founded House Tarly, first in battle. See my lady, I can repeat house words as well."

Arya laughed. "Bors the Breaker, who drank only Bull's blood and founded House Bulwer, death before disgrace. Rose of Red Lake, although she was Rose of Blue Lake before Bandon became Brandon the Bloody. A skin-changer who could transform into a crane at will and ancestor to House Crane."

"Some say she is also linked to House Stark, my lady, some credit her with being Bran the Builder's mother." Ros said quietly.

"I hadn't heard that one." Arya muttered. "How is that meant to work?"

Ros gave Arya a gentle smile. "I'm not completely sure, but it's supposed to have something to do with how their Father-God's green powers were stronger through his daughters and Rose was the only skin-changer yet Bran the Builder was able to skin-change into a direwolf." She paused. "It's also supposed to be why the occasional Stark is born with blood-red hair… like your sister."

Arya pulled a face, she thought the red was more from the Auburn in the Tully blood, although there was to occasional red-headed Stark, she decided to ignore the comment and focus on the skin-changer comment. "Is she also meant to be the mother of the Warg-Kings?"

Ros shrugged. "Maybe, although the myths I heard on them are that they crossbreed with the children of the forest, or hailed from a different god."

Arya nodded, she realised that she was enjoying herself. Septa Mordane would never have allowed such talk, and Sansa was a follower of the Seven, like their mother. Robb always said that talk of gods was above him and Jon would listen, seeming amused, but never really partake in the conversation. Other than old Nan, she'd never had anybody to play this game with.

Ros was interesting, and very well educated, it seemed very strange that she had fallen into her current line of work and Arya found herself growing more and more curious about Ros' story. She noticed that they were passing the Weirwood tree and she allowed her fingertips to absently trail along the bark. The action was a mistake, the tree reached out to her and she suddenly fell into darkness.

~~/~~

She was chasing a falling star through the heavens… she landed behind it and realised that she had to choose a gender, she chose to be a man… he forged a weapon from the fallen sun with his own two hands, the white blade shining like the sun. One of the many sons of the Greenhand came to him, spoke of war and darkness, and asked for his aid. Years later the same half-god came to him with a young boy wrapped in wolf skin and asked him to teach the boy how to build.

She was the wind, howling in rage, as her mermaid daughter was ripped from her love the sea and chose a mortal life… She tore down every dwelling that the mortal man built, but then the wolf-boy came – grandson of the Greenhand – and built a circular Keep with stone and magic.

She was a crane, watching her blue lake turn red, when the battle was over she flew at Brandon in rage, he caught her and forced her into human form, he carried her away from her lake in the reach to the north and finally her rage turned to sadness, each tear that hit the snow-covered ground growing into a blue winter rose. He wrapped her in a direwolf pelt to keep her warm and begged for her forgiveness, saying that the children of the forest had to be stopped before they killed them all.

She looked at the growing winter and realised that Brandon was right, the children had done something terrible, the natural cycle was broken. She gave him a child to help in the fight, but once the babe was weened she returned to her lake, still red, and mourned her loss.

Suddenly she was a midwife, holding a black haired babe in her arms, there was too much blood on the birthing bed and fighting outside… She was a different woman now, holding a dead new-born babe in her arms and looking out a window at a rushing torrent of water. She cursed the name Brandon Stark, then cursed herself for not choosing sweet Ned, before throwing herself out of the window and to her death. She would never know that had she waited a few more weeks another child would have been placed in her arms by the very man that she had crushed by taking his older brother to her bed.

Another woman, with a living babe in her arms, but unable to produce enough milk and not a wet-nurse to be found. A crestfallen Ned Stark at the door with the sword Dawn in his hands, begging forgiveness that he could not return both the sword and her brother in law's body, and telling her where Arthur Dayne was buried so that he could be retrieved. There was a wet-nurse and a babe with him, and despite the fact that three days ago their house's had been enemies he showed nothing but respect. It took but a glance at the child to see he had Lyanna's eyes…

Suddenly Arya was her mother, holding an as yet unnamed baby boy in her arms and praying for Ned's safe return that he could name their son and they could start their lives in Winterfell, he was nothing like brave Brandon, but he was gentle and kind, and she would never tell him that his first-born son was actually his nephew. Brandon had not wanted to wait until their wedding night, and she did not regret allowing him into her bed. She would not regret it, she would give Ned many children, but this one was the heir of Winterfell.

Another woman still, in the village outside of Winterfell, rocking a red-haired girl in her crib as her lover, Brandon Stark, went off to meet his betrothed, Catelyn Tully. She promised her daughter that she would teach her to read and speak like a lady. She would train her daughter to be everything a man would want and bring the House of Stark to their knees…

The girl was older now and her fine words did not serve her well, she learnt that she could do better playing stupid, she knew she was a bastard of House Stark, but did not share her mother's rage. If anything she was angry at her mother for not telling Ned Stark she was his brother's child. If Lord Stark would take on one bastard he would take on two. Her mother did her wrong one more time by dying of fever, and prostitution became her only option.

She took delight in convincing the Greyjoy Ward to sneak her into the Keep. One night a nervous Jon Snow was brought to her room and she felt suddenly cornered at the presence of her cousin. They sat and talked, nothing more, and Ros again decided that she was right not to search for vengeance…

Arya jolted to her senses at the foot of the Weirwood and looked up at Ros in shock. "You're my blood." She whispered.

Ros nodded. "Still a bastard, and a whore." She replied sadly. "Nobody needs to know."

Arya shook her head. "You're my blood." She whispered more fiercely. "You deserved better."

Ros just smiled sadly at her. "You've given me more than I ever expected from any Stark, a whore is all I know how to be, too late to change me now, it's not like there was a direwolf waiting in the snow for me." She helped Arya to her feet and brushed the leaves out of her hair. "Come on, let's get back to camp before the others start to worry."

Arya looked at Ros and frowned. "I… ah, I cannot tell you how to live your life, and I cannot have you named, but what I can do for you I will."

Ros put her arm around Arya's shoulders. "Let's just tell people I'm you handmaiden, most handmaidens are whores if truth be told."

Arya nodded. "I can live with that, for now."

~~/~~

They found that they had to ride east to get back to a King's Road, and they were in the Stormlands now, they were getting closer to Storms End than Arya liked. Ten days after they left the Weirwood tree her worst fears were confirmed when the caravan of the yellow lady was surrounded by soldiers bearing the standard of Renly Baratheon.

"Is this the caravan of the yellow lady?" A knight she did not recognise demanded.

Arya spurred her horse forward, Gendry not far behind her. "Aye, that is the name we use." She replied, meeting the knight's gaze.

The man laughed. "And you're the yellow lady? Why, I'd heard stories of her taking down bandits, this is no game, child, fetch your mistress."

Arya laughed back. "I am the yellow lady, tell prince Renly we mean no threat and let us be on our way."

"It's _King_ Renly, and he says you will come to Storms End, so to Storms End you will come, child."

Arya quickly realised that short of exposing who she was she was going to put the entire caravan in danger. She realised that it would be easier to sell this knight on the idea that a young Stark would use Baratheon colours for safety while traveling in the region of the Stormlands than any lie, so she took a risk and went with something close to the truth.

"We northern nobles usually prefer a please in our invitations, but considering the history between our two houses, which is the reason this armour makes me feel safer, you may tell _Prince_ Renly that Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell and her companions accept his invitation."

The knight made his horse take a step back at Arya's words, but another knight was bolder and lunged his horse forward. "Lier!" the other knight growled.

Gendry's reaction was just as quick, he moved his horse and his hammer between them. "Mi'lady is telling you the truth, she has given you her name, now I may just be a low born bodyguard, but I was taught it is good manners to give your name in return."

The first knight was clearly in charge and he signalled the other knight to move back. "I am Ser Dorrmon Buckler of Bronzegate." He replied.

Arya smiled. "Fall back, Gendry." She said softly. Gendry reluctantly did as she asked. She looked at the knight carefully and tried to remember what she knew about his house. "House Buckler," She said slowly. "Three bronze buckles on a deep blue field, the current Lord is Ralph Buckler, yes?" Ser Buckler nodded. "I thought your house was sworn to Stannis Baratheon?"

Ser Buckler suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "My uncle is."

"And yet you serve Renly?" She questioned

"King Renly is the Lord of Storms End and therefore the true heir of House Baratheon."

"Dragonstone is the traditional seat of the heir to the Iron Throne." Arya countered. She may not like Stannis, but her words were technically true. If he could be freed from the poison being whispered in his ears by Melisandre he might actually be a good king.

Ser Buckler laughed. "You must be a Stark, only a Stark would be so inflexible in their beliefs even when clearly outnumbered."

Arya laughed as well. "I've always wanted to see Storms End." She admitted. "My companions are loyal, give me your word that they will be safe."

"I give you my word, Lady Arya, they will be safe and so will you." He bowed slightly.

"I take you at your word, Ser Buckler, lead on."

~~/~~

Part 10:

Arya woke up screaming. Gendry and Ros were quickly at her side and Ser Buckler wasn't far behind. She couldn't remember what she had been dreaming but she knew that she had dreamt it before, or pieces of it at least. The dream faded in and out, the feelings and smells lingered strong, fear, blood, death, but she couldn't focus on any of the images. The closer she got to Storms End the worse it got. It wasn't like her memories from her other self, or the Wolf Dreams, or the Weirwood visions… this was something else.

"What's going on!" Ser Buckler demanded.

Ros stood up and placed herself between Ser Buckler and Arya. "Calm down, Ser Buckler." Ros replied soothingly. "You just need give her a few minutes, this happens."

"What happens?!" he demanded, glaring menacingly at Ros.

Ros didn't flinch, she was well accustomed to men of rank throwing their weight around, and Ser Buckler was nothing new. She looked him square in the eye and sighed. "With respect, Ser Buckler, there is more to the line of the Kings of Winter than I could ever expect any southerner to wish to understand. Lady Arya is in tune with the old gods and has the seeing, not everything she sees is pleasant, it is a heavy burden for a young mind."

Ser Buckler wasn't convinced. "You expect me to believe that this little girl has visons? Why should I believe your lies, you northern whore?"

Arya couldn't take this, whatever she had just felt and seen it was some kind of warning, but the more they argued the more it faded away. She said the first thing she could think of to shut them up. "Because she is also of the line of the Kings of Winter." She replied. "Yes, she may be a whore, but she is also Brandon Stark's bastard and my cousin." Ser Buckler looked at her in stunned silence, as did Gendry.

"My Lady, they didn't need to know that." Ros whispered softly.

"Why hide it?" Arya replied with a shrug. "My uncle's choices weren't your fault and you didn't ask him or your mother to die on you. Now be quiet, cousin, and let me remember." She begged.

"Take your time, mi'lady." Gendry said gently.

She looked up at him, he was kneeling beside her, the concern clear in his blue eyes. With relief she realised that the eyes in her dream, although very similar to Gendry's, had not been his. She studied his face and tried to focus on how the eyes in the dream had been different, it was a starting point, slowly she began to remember.

"Smoke…" She whispered, but that was wrong, she shook her head slowly. "No, not smoke… shadow… a living shadow. Something unnatural… I…" pain shot through her temples as she tried to remember. She squeezed her hands to the sides of her head as the pain grew, spreading behind her eyes. "I can't remember…" She whispered. It wasn't until she felt Gendry's hands on her shoulders that she realised she was rocking.

"Shh… easy." He whispered. "It's okay if you can't remember."

She rested her head against his shoulder. "No," she whispered. "Somebody's going to die, I saw it. If I can remember then may I can stop it." She tried to remember again. Somehow being close to Gendry seemed to make it clearer. "I… a tent… a blade… the blade is shadow too… I…"

A wave of dizziness washed over her but she refused to give up. She focused on Gendry rubbing her back soothingly. She let him be her safety, her protection. She placed the feel of his presence at the centre of her thoughts and then reached out her mind from there. She saw waves, a stormy sea, and for a moment it was as if she were a boat adrift and he were her anchor. Slowly bits of the vision came back but it was muddled.

"I don't know…" She whispered against his shoulder. "I don't know how to stop it… I… broken antlers on rose petals, splatted with blood… fire… Melisandre… don't take your armour of!" The pain was too much, she had to stop trying. She felt sick and the pain was causing tears to stream down her face. She buried her head deeper into Gendry's shoulder and clung to him as she sobbed. "I need to stop it." She whispered. "But I don't know what _it_ is."

He rubbed his hand in soothing circles on her back as she cried. "We'll work it out." He whispered reassuringly. "We'll work it out."

As the pain subsided Arya pulled away from Gendry, she wiped at the tears on her face then let her hands fall to her sides, as her right hand brushed over her armour she realised that a part of it felt warm, she looked down and realised that there was a symbol there. She looked down at the symbol wishing that she could understand what the angular lines meant, for a moment the lines seemed to soften and blur, the image of an eye seemed to overlay it for a heartbeat and then was gone.

In that heartbeat Arya suddenly comprehended that the symbol had something to do with foresight. She moved her hand to another symbol but the leather was cold and unwilling to yield any more of its secrets to her. She ran her hand back over the first symbol, the warmth was still there. She looked back up at Gendry, and then over to the others. "Melisandre is coming to Storms End." She whispered.

Gendry drew in a sharp breath at her words, his eyes also moved to his brothers and sisters. "Then they're not." He replied.

Arya nodded, Gendry moved to his feet then offered her his hand, she accepted, allowing him to help her to her feet. Ser Buckler was looking at her in shock.

"King Renly married Lady Margaery Tyrell, the stag and the rose." He said quietly.

~~/~~

Arya watched as Gendry went over the prices and sales pitches for the weapons with Elenei one last time.

"Don't let them rip you off, I put a lot of time and effort into making those weapons." He reminded her.

Elenei nodded, the seriousness of her expression a perfect reflection of the seriousness of his own. "Don't worry, Gendry, I won't undersell your work. Castle forged steel, made by an apprentice of Tabbo Mott."

He smiled at her. "Good. And trust Robar when it comes to horses."

Elenei rolled her eyes. "And keep a sword each for Robar and Lucerys, but don't let them use them until they have proven their skill with the training swords, a bow for Cade and another for Aleena. Sell the armour piercing arrows but keep the hunting ones… we've been over this six times."

Gendry rubbed at the back of his neck, a look of embarrassment on his face. "Right, it's just, with me gone you're the oldest of us, you'll have to protect our brothers and sisters. I know it's odd, to spend your whole life feeling so alone and then suddenly have younger brothers and sisters to worry about…" He let his words trail off.

Elenei did something completely unexpected, she hugged him. He hesitated for a moment then hugged her back. "It was nice to meet you, big brother." She said quietly as she pulled away.

"It was nice to meet you too, little sister." Gendry replied softly. "Let Ros do your hair occasionally, it will make her happy."

"No promises." Elenei replied as she walked away.

All of the other goodbyes had been said. Arya's last goodbye had been to Ros, her bastard cousin promising to keep the others safe and to trust in the old gods. If anybody had the cunning to keep them hidden and safe Ros was the person to do it. After all, there was more than a drop of wolf blood in the red-head's veins.

Arya adjusted her saddlebag, tucking the fine yellow fabric that Elenei had given her into it more carefully. Elenei had confessed that she had planned on using it to make something for Arya, if she had ever stayed out of her armour long enough, although the young sewer had never worked out exactly what to make. Gendry hadn't let Elenei give him any money for the weapons so it had been impossible to refuse the gift. Fabric and clothing had also been gifted to Gendry.

Gendry reached into the back of the cart grabbing one last thing and slowly made his way towards the horses. Arya realised that it had been a difficult decision for him to choose to come with her, instead of staying with his family, she gave him a gentle nod as he approached and then mounted her horse. As he tucked the bundle he had grabbed from the cart into his saddlebag she recognised it as the bundle he had taken from the room under the Red Keep. She suddenly realised that he still hadn't told her what was in it, but now was not the time. She gave a silent prayer to the old gods to protect the others and followed Ser Buckler's lead towards Storms End.

~~/~~


	3. Chapters 11 - 15

Part 11:

It took them two days to get through the Red Mountains and they were tired when they finally descended towards Renly's camp. Due to the wildness of Storm's End the camp was a mile or so inland. The rows and rows of brown tents stretched out below them creating a makeshift city of hustle and bustle. Like every city the camp was a living thing with many moving parts. Not just soldiers but women and children as well. The ground was muddy from many feet and horses and the clayish dust of the Red Mountains already clung to their skin.

As they got closer to the camp they were assaulted by the smell, it wasn't as bad as Kings Landing but it was bad. Despite everything that the older Arya had seen she had never quite seen something like this. Young Arya took in every detail that she could, the time may come when she would have to lead an army, she now had a new appreciation for what that actually meant. It was one thing to have the forces, but you had to feed and house and arm them too. Even the whores were necessary in their way.

Bed warmers, she had once heard them called, another term was washer women. Many believed that Jon's mother had been such a woman, clinging to an army like fleas on a cat. Others believed that Ashara Dayne was Jon's mother, although Ned Stark was quick to quash that rumor, by loudly stating that Jon had his mother's eyes. Ashara Dayne's eyes had been purple, not a brown so dark as to almost be black.

She pulled back her wandering thoughts as they entered the camp. She had only met Lord Renly on a few occasions but he had always been kind to her. He had been on the small council as the Master of Laws prior to King Robert's death and was much younger than his brothers. But other than that Arya didn't know very much about him. She had a decision to make, was she going to tell Renly who Gendry was? Would he see it for himself anyway? If she was going to get Renly to trust her could she afford to keep any secrets?

There was some sort of tournament going on when they reached Renly's camp, west of Storm's End. Gendry moved closer to Arya as they made their way through the crowed of drunk cheering men and approached the sounds of clashing swords. Arya found herself thankful for his protectiveness, they were going in blind here. Arya's older self had no knowledge of what they were walking into and the Weirtree had not given her any visions in relation to this. There was the foreshadowing that Melasandrie was coming and somebody was going to die in an unnatural way, but Arya was still quite unclear as to what was going to happen, when, or to whom?

For the first time since the crossroads the eleven year old was truly on her own. It was a shock to realise just how reliant she had become on the knowledge from her damaged older self. The older Arya, and her terrible experiences, were still there in Arya's head, colouring her perception, but there was no knowledge to allow her to make a plan. The older self hated the lack of control, but Arya told her to shut up and pushed the voice to the back of her mind. Clearly there was no way that she was getting out of all of this sane, but the knowledge that winter was coming (and of what winter would bring) kept Arya going.

Ser Buckler led them through the crowd and people flowed out of his way like water. They got to the front and Arya realised with surprise that she recognised both opponents. Brienne of Tarth was fighting against Ser Loras! Brienne's armour looked like it had specifically been designed to hide the fact that she was a woman, but Arya recognised the fighting style and wide shoulders of the giantess with ease. Brienne's presence eased some of Arya's tension.

Brienne had a mace and Loras had an axe. They were in a makeshift open throne room. Renly was sitting on a makeshift throne, an incredibly beautiful woman, in a very revealing dress, on the chair beside him. The woman had to be Loras' sister, Margaery. As if to prove Arya correct Loras got in a lucky blow and the woman stood up clapping.

"Loras, High Garden." The woman cheered.

"C'mon, Breanne." Arya muttered, warranting a surprised look from both Ser Buckler and Gendry.

Loras managed to disarm Brienne, sending her weapon flying. Brienne pulled back for a couple of steps allowing Loras to strike. He was lazy with his shield and his second strike left him open. Brienne lunged inside the arch of his axe and grabbed him around the waist. She lifted him off of his feet and landed him flat on his back on the ground. He raised the visor of his helm as she pinned him with her left hand, she sat above him and drew a long dagger, prepared to give his pretty face more character.

"Yield! I yield!" Loras called out with his hands up in surrender.

"Tarth! Sapphire Isle!" Arya cheered at the top of her voice, causing many heads to turn, including Brienne's. She gave Brienne a quick nod of respect as Loras scrambled away, loosing his footing in the sand before finally finding his feet.

Renly's clap and words brought Brienne's attention back towards him. "Well fought, approach." He said as he beckoned her forward.

Arya watched as Ser Loras angrily removed his helm and watched Brienne approach Renly and kneel.

"Rise," Renly instructed, "Remove your helm."

Arya's lips twitched into a smile at the gasps of the crowd as it was revealed that Brienne was a woman. Brienne gave them no heed, her gaze firmly on Renly. Arya watched Loras's face fall even more.

"You are all your father promised and more, my lady. I've seen Ser Loras bested once or twice, but never quite in that fashion."

"Now, now, my love. My brother fought valiantly for you." Margaery interceded, but her tone sounded more like she was saying lines in a play, there was no emotion to the words.

Renly paused and looked at her, slowly he smiled. It was clear that they were playing to the crowd. "That he did, my queen," he turned towards the crowed and raised his voice. "But there can only be one champion!" He paused and the crowd cheered as expected, he returned his attention to Brienne. "Brienne of Tarth, you may ask anything of me that you desire, if it is within my power, it is yours."

Arya's respect for Renly grew, yes, he was playing to the crowd, but it seemed quite clear that he had known who Loras' opponent was, and that he was not holding bias against her for being a woman. Hope surged in Arya's heart, maybe Renly was the answer? Stannis certainly wasn't, he might be the rightful heir but he was as mad as the mad king had been and would eventually sacrifice even his own daughter's life to his lust for power.

Brienne again took the knee. "Your Grace, I ask the honour of a place in your King's Guard." Loras' expression soured even more and there were many comments of disbelief amongst the crowd. "I will be one of your seven, pledge my life to yours, and keep you safe from all harm."

Arya watched as Renly's gaze remained intent upon Brienne, she watched as Margaery gave Renly a smile that seemed to ask if he was going to indulge this, she watched as Loras gave a small shake of his head, seeming to be asking Renly not to grant this. But Renly's eyes never left Brienne. It was almost as if he had already promised he would give her this if she could win, perhaps he had? His lips seemed to quiver for a moment, as if contemplating the repercussions of the choice that he was about to make. But when he spoke his voice was confident and strong. There even seemed to be a hint of happiness to it.

"Done. Rise, Brienne of the King's Guard."

"Wait!" Arya yelled and all eyes turned to her.

Renly paused for a moment then seemed to recognise her from her time in Kings Landing. "Arya Stark of Winterfell." He acknowledged. "What a pleasant surprise." She watched his brow furrow in confusion. "Do you have some objection to Lady Brianne's request?"

Arya took a few steps forward and held his gaze. "Only that I believe you omitted a word, and I do not wish your intent to be misunderstood, your grace." There, she had done it, she had indirectly offered her support to his claim at the iron throne. Would it be enough to get her what she wanted? "Surely you meant to say 'Rise, _Ser_ Brienne of the King's Guard', Brienne of Tarth holds true to every tenant of knighthood."

"You cannot knight a woman!" Loras interjected.

Arya turned her attention to Loras, she had heard about how he had cheated at the Tournament of the Hand, and how the Mountain had nearly taken his life for it. "Why not? She is loyal, dutiful, honourable. She is more deserving of a knighthood than many who already have one. She would never, for example, intentionally ride a mere that was in heat in a tournament against an opponent that it was known to only ride stallions."

Loras' cheeks flushed red with anger but Arya held Loras' gaze until he looked away, she could feel the growing tension of the crowd but she was not prepared to back down.

Renly laughed, forcing the tension to break. "You are your father's daughter, I was planning to knight her separately as I currently do not have a sword on me." He stood up and descended from the makeshift throne approaching Arya. "May I borrow your blade?"

Arya nodded and handed Needle to him hilt first. He approached Brienne, who was still kneeling and tapped her on each shoulder with the blade. "Rise, _Ser_ Brienne of the Kings Guard."

Brienne rose and the crowd cheered. Renly returned Arya's blade to her and put his arm around her shoulder. "Walk with me."

Arya nodded. "Gendry."

Gendry tried to approach but Brienne blocked his way. "Not with that hammer." She warned.

Arya paused, now was the time she had to decide, did she reveal Gendry's true identity or not? She looked at Gendry squaring his shoulders and preparing for trouble. He was no match for Brienne, but she knew he would not hand over his weapon or let them take her away from him. Her decision was made.

"You'll have about as much luck separating him from that hammer as you would have had separating his Father's hammer from him." Arya replied, she looked Renly in the eye. "He may be unnamed, but the Fury is his as much as it is yours."

Renly's eyes widened and he walked towards Gendry. Renly looked Gendry up and down then nodded. "Let my nephew keep his hammer, Brienne." He ignored the gasps of the crowd at his acknowledgement of Gendry and returned to Arya. "It appears we have a lot to discuss, Lady Stark." He placed his arm around her shoulder again and led her towards his tent.

As they walked the paths of the camp Arya began to get an uneasy feeling. She only half listened as Renly asked a man leading a horse how his foot was. A few more twists and turns and they were at Renlys tent. Arya had hardly stepped inside when she froze.

"I know this tent." She whispered, she turned to meet Gendry's questioning gaze. "A tent… a blade…" she whispered, horror in her eyes. "Broken antlers on rose petals, splatted with blood… Melisandre is going to try to kill Renly."

~~/~~

Part 12:

Renly laughed. "Forgive me, Arya, I do not intend to be disrespectful, but that is quite a lot that you are asking me to believe. First you tell me that my brother's Red priestess is going to try and kill me with magic, and that my attacker and their weapon will be a shadow… then you tell me that you know this because you dreamt it, and that you get visions. Whatever shall we do? Shall we go ask the children of the forest for help?"

Arya held his gaze. "Well I guess we could," She replied with a shrug. "But they are more than a week's travel north of the Wall, although if you can get me to a Weirwood I may be able to speak with them."

Renly looked at her and the smile slowly began to slip from his face. "You truly believe this?"

"That's almost the exact same words her father said when she tried to warn him what was about to happen, your grace." Gendry replied stoically. "Lord Stark couldn't hear her warnings either, and it resulted in King Robert dead and him in a black cell. It wasn't easy getting him out even with mi'lady's gift."

Renly's gaze moved from Gendry to Arya and then back again. "You believe her?"

Gendry nodded his head. "I didn't want to, your grace, not at first. But she has told me things that she cannot know, she has even made a believer out of your Ser Buckler, he was there when she got the vision about your death, he witnessed the physical pain it caused her to get the few details that she has given you. Mi'lady is resolved to try and prevent it, as she prevented her father's death and the terrible things that would have happened to her sister. And I am resolved to help her, regardless of what you believe."

Renly shook his head. "I'm sorry, this is just too fanciful, I'm going to parlay with my brother tomorrow. He has always been a serious man, but a sensible one, he is above such frivolous nonsense."

"When you go, look at his standard." Arya replied. "You will see the flaming heart of the Lord of Light, R'hllor. The faceless men believe it is just another face of the many-faced god. They have an alter to it in the hall of gifts, at the house of black and white. The alter to the stranger sits to its left, and the alter to the black goat sits to its right, there are other alters around the hall to the death gods of other cultures. Tell him that and you will shake the confidence of his men."

All of the colour had drained from Renly's face. "And you know this because…?"

Arya considered her answer. "Does it matter? If you believe nothing else that I have said, at least believe that giving out that information about his sigil will weaken his control over his men. You are dealing with zealots, you must shake their faith."

Renly seemed to become more at ease. "Ah, there's the northern practicality that I was expecting, they say Stark's are taught tactics from the crib."

"The womb actually." Arya replied with a smirk. "And we are given a sword, not a rattle, direwolves, not dogs, and our meet is served bloody and rare." She smirked, every northerner knew that southerners considered them as wild and dangerous as the wildlings.

Renly rewarded her with a smile. "Well, at least part of that is true."

She allowed herself to become more serious. "We are soldiers, well maybe Sansa not so much. I'm not asking you to believe me, I'm asking you to believe that I believe what I am telling you. If I am correct about Stannis' standard, however, you must consider that some of the other things I have said may also be true. You must consider that it may be true that he is burning people alive."

Renly nodded. "Ser Brienne will show you to your tent, and Gendry, we'll find you some quarters amongst the guards-"

"No, either Gendry and I will both sleep in the same tent, or we will both sleep with the guards." Arya interjected.

"Lady Stark, it is not proper for you to share a tent with him." Renly said in the voice that people often used with her when they were treating her like a child.

Arya raised her chin in defiance. "If we were talking about solid walls and lockable doors I would agree," She replied. "But a tent has a door wherever one may choose to run their blade, I will be as vulnerable as a ship without an anchor in Ship-Wreaker's Bay. With the guards is fine, if I am to learn to be a knight soft beds do me no favours."

"And if I am to learn to be a King, not giving a soft bed to a daughter of House Stark does me no favours." Renly sighed. "I guess we'll just have to find you a tent that can fit two beds. Ser Brienne, arrange it, and send Dorrman Buckler to me. After that you are relieved, once I have finished speaking with Dorrman I would pray a while."

Brienne bowed. "Of course, your grace."

~~/~~

The tent was large, but the second bed that was brought in was small. It seemed wrong to Arya that she was meant to sleep in that large bed and Gendry was expected to sleep in the small cot. Gendry laughed at her concerns but she made such a fuss that the small bed was taken away and a much larger one brought in.

"You have an intriguing sense of justice, Lady Stark." Brienne observed as the tent was rearranged and the second bed was brought in. There was a mat on the floor with cushions, a fire brazier, a low table and some chairs, so the second bed made the tent quite crowded. A large piece of fabric was hung to section off Arya's bed from Gendry's.

"I am no more a Lady than you are, Ser Brienne." Arya replied.

Brienne laughed. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," She muttered. "Only a High Lady, or High Lord, could walk into a King's court, challenge him, insult his favourite Kings Guard, and have him smile, place his arm around their shoulder, and ask them to walk with him. No one else would be so bold."

Arya sighed. "I asked for nothing less than what you had already earnt, our gender does not justify keeping a knighthood from you. Besides, winter is coming, there is no time for softly, softly. I had to make a decision and stick to it, just like in combat, I'll not be the one to get lazy and lower my shield."

Brienne chuckled. "Ser Loras did give me the opening, didn't he?"

Arya nodded. "Yes, but we both know that if he hadn't you would have stepped into his next shot and blocked his downswing with your left forearm, you would have taken the blow of his shield as your right hand went to push back on his left shoulder and you would have swept out his legs with your right foot, disarming him as you took him to the ground."

Brienne seemed surprised, she looked at Arya for a good long moment before nodding slowly. "Yes, that was exactly the plan. What else did you observe?"

"I only saw the end, but it was enough. He stands too flat-footed, and he projects where he is going to swing, you know where his weapon is going before he puts it there. He stands square on, giving his opponent an easy target, he needs to practice standing side-face and keeping his weight on the balls of his feet."

Brienne nodded. "He is one of the best with the lance."

Arya nodded. "Yes, but he wasn't fighting with a lance today."

Once the tent was to Arya's satisfaction Brienne left them too it. A couple of serving girls brought in food and drink, and bowls of water for them to wash up in. Arya washed her face and neck, it felt good to get the dust of the mountains off of her, she hesitated for a moment and then decided to remove her armour. The servant girl that had come around her side of the divider tried to assist but she brushed her away.

"What the hell?" Gendry exclaimed from the other side if the divider.

"Washing your back, mi'lord." The other servant girl said.

"One, I'm not a Lord, two, I can wash my own damn back, and three, don't watch me bath." Gendry growled in a low voice. "Go away."

"I don't think they're allowed to." Arya replied. "I believe they were sent to protect my dignity." She rolled her eyes as she said the last three words, she removed her dirty clothes and washed herself down.

"That's ridiculous." Gendry muttered. "Protect you from who?'"

Arya just laughed. She decided not to point out that both girls were young and pretty. Once she was changed she started walking towards the table then paused. "Are you decent?"

"Yes." Gendry replied.

"Good," she answered. "I'm hungry."

One of the servant girls took the dirty water and their dirty clothes away while the other stayed to serve them, much to Gendry's discomfort. Arya couldn't help but find some amusement in the whole situation. Every time the servant girl lent in to top up Gendry's drink he lent away. The girl was clearly flirting with him, and he was clearly oblivious to it. After a while Arya collected her book from her bag and went to sit on the cushions to read.

Gendry followed soon after, clearly trying to find an escape from the servant girl. "Teach me something." He muttered.

Arya looked up at him, it was the first time he had ever asked, she flicked to the start of the book, the History of the Greater and Lesser houses, and went through a few pages until she found what she wanted. "You remember when we met Ser Buckler?" She asked, Gendry nodded. "That's his sigil there, although sometimes they use this one." She pointed to another sigil that had a yellow strip with three stags on the top. "That's to show that House Baratheon are their liege Lords." Gendry nodded and she moved a little closer, setting the book on his lap. "See there, where it says 'Lord Ralph Buckler, Lord of Bronzegate' and then a number?" Gendry nodded again. "That means that information was correct at that date."

"Show me another one." Gendry asked.

"Choose one." Arya replied.

Gendry frowned for a moment. "House Arryn." He replied.

Arya nodded, they went over a few, she showed him how some had more information that others, house Arryn for example, had a far more detailed line of heredity and the house words. She let him take control of the book and he flicked back and forth, often reading aloud or asking her questions. He struggled with some words but she only helped him when he asked. She curled up on the cushions beside him and eventually started to drift off to sleep with her head on his shoulder, as her eyes finally fluttered shut she was sure she saw the symbol of House Stark on the page that he was quietly reading.

~~/~~

Part 13:

Arya woke up in the bed and was momently disorientated, she remembered falling asleep on the cushions beside Gendry as he read. She had dreamt that Gendry had gently picked her up and carried her to her bed, the way that Robb used to do. It had been so similar to how her brother had always done it, tucking her under the covers, brushing some hair away from her face, and wishing her pleasant dreams, that she had been sure she had imagined it. Yet here she was, lying in a feathered bed. She could hear Gendry's soft snoring coming from the other side of the divider. She had forgotten how comfortable a decent bed was.

With a touch of reluctance she got up, stretched, and put her armour on. She was just securing Needle in place when two servants entered with food and drink. A boy and a girl this time. There was a range of food to choose from, fruit, breads, cheeses, cold cooked meat… Arya found herself quickly categorising it from most to least perishable, it wouldn't hurt to pack some of the less perishable stuff away just in case.

A plate with hot food was brought in and the smell of fresh cooked bacon caught her attention. She picked up a piece between her fingers and broke it in half, eating half of it as she approached Gendry's bed. She knew she was smirking as she waved the other half of the bacon in front of Gendry's nose until the smell woke him up. He awoke with a snort and she pulled the other half of the bacon away, popping it in her mouth before he could grab it.

"No fair." He muttered as she laughed and moved away.

"There's plenty more." She replied over her shoulder. "Get up before I eat it all."

"You're in a good mood this morning." Gendry observed.

She shrugged and piled half of the bacon onto her plate along with a couple of fried eggs and a piece of bread. "Good sleep, good food, it's a nice change." She replied.

"Agreed, mi'lady." Gendry replied as he made his way to the table.

They ate in silence for a while. Arya demolished her bacon quickly and had almost finished her eggs when Gendry dropped another piece of bacon onto her plate. "Gendry…"

Gendry just shrugged. "It's worth it to see you smile." He reached for more bread and eggs. "Besides, there's plenty of other food."

Gods, he was so like her older brothers sometimes! Arya remembered how Theon would often try to take the last piece of bacon or spiced sausage, but Robb would stop him, pretending to want it for himself and whilst they were arguing Jon would grab it and put it on Arya's plate. The memory made her homesick, but she was well aware that the home she longed for didn't exist anymore. Jon had gone to the Wall, and she would never trust Theon again. She pushed the thoughts aside and tried to muster a smile for Gendry.

"You didn't have to do that." She muttered. She broke the bacon in half and gave half of it back.

He frowned, clearly seeing the change in her expression. "What's wrong?" He asked.

Arya shook her head. "Nothing, just… that's something Jon would have done."

Gendry nodded. "You miss him."

"Yeah." Arya agreed. "But females aren't allowed to join the Nights Watch so there's not much I can do about that."

"Would you?" He asked. "I mean, if you could, would you join the Nights Watch?"

Arya didn't even have to stop to think about the answer, she nodded. "Yeah, I would."

Gendry frowned at her answer. "Why?"

Arya sighed. "Gendry, I'm the third born child of a high Lord, the second daughter, but I'm the fifth in line for an inheritance, my greatest value to my house is what can be gained in selling me off to some marriage alliance. My father's a good man, he'd try and make sure it was a good match, but his biggest hope for me is that I will marry a high Lord and rule his castle… that my sons will be knights, and princes, and Lords… but that's not me. I'm best with a sword in my hand, if I can't run my own holdfast then I might as well be at the wall."

The sound of a throat clearing made both of them turn their heads to the entranceway of the tent where Brianne was standing. "Knew I liked you, my lady." Brienne commented. "I wasn't meaning to intrude, Lady Arya, but I was wondering if you would be interested in a light sparring session?"

Arya grinned. "I would be honoured for a lesson, Ser Brianne, but only if the invitation extends to Gendry as well."

Brienne nodded. "Of course."

~~/~~

By the time mid-morning came Brienne and Arya had quite a crowd watching them. Arya still had a lot to learn, her memories from the other life only helped so much and her body hadn't been through the training, however being left handed did give her something of an advantage. They had trained for about an hour, then Brianne had trained with Gendry for a while to allow Arya to rest, then they had started training again. Brianne was just giving her some tips on her footwork when a man in basic armour approached. The man was in his early twenties, he was an interesting man to look at, tall with light yellow hair and a narrow face with a pointed chin, making him look almost birdlike.

"Forgive the interruption, Ser Brianne, Lady Arya, I know I have no rank or right to ask, but I have a request."

"Ask away." Brianne replied.

The man looked somewhat flustered. "Actually the request was of Lady Arya."

That caught Gendry's attention, his hammer was already in his hands by the time he crossed the few steps to reach Arya's side. "Go ahead, ask." He told the older man.

Arya repressed a sigh, she turned to the man. "What would you ask?"

"I see that you are left handed, have you ever sparred against an opponent who is also left handed?"

Arya shook her head. "No."

The man smiled. "Would you like too?"

Before Arya could answer Ser Buckler came striding across. "Galan Storm, what do you think you are doing?!"

Arya quickly placed herself between the man, now identified as Galan, and the approaching knight. "Do you know how hard it is to find a left handed opponent to train against?" She asked. "Of course you do, surely that is Galan's greatest value to you, but even a left handed soldier needs practice against a left handed opponent occasionally. Since I am also left handed, I am going to do you a favour and train with him today."

Ser Buckler seemed taken aback. "My lady, it is not appropriate…"

Arya laughed. "I'm sure he will go easier on me than Ser Brienne has, but if you are concerned for my safety you can always stay and watch. Ser Brienne you are relieved from watching over me, Ser Buckler will take over, would you give Galan your training sword please?"

Brianne nodded, she bowed to Arya before handing Galan the training sword and walking away. Gendry put his hammer away and moved back to the edge of the crowd. Ser Buckler was still looking on in disbelief when Arya smiled at Galan then began to attack. Galan blocked the shot easily and then gave a counter attack of his own.

"So, you're a Storm?" Arya asked as they spared, Galan nodded. "Do you know your father's name?"

Galan's expression darkened and he answered with a single word. "Tyrion."

Arya nodded. "You're lucky then, not a house you really want to be a part of. Twyin cares more about his legacy than those he's building it for."

"Lucky to be a bastard?" Galan scoffed.

Arya shrugged. "You know, if all the bastards banded together, you could create a lot of change. The rules are wrong, it's time we re-wrote them."

Galan looked at her with surprise. "You really think you can change the rules?"

"I don't know, but I have to try." Arya replied. "If I could get enough nobles and bastards together maybe we could make a difference?"

They continued sparing in silence for a while, but Arya could see that she had gotten Galan thinking. She wasn't sure what she had wanted to achieve with her words, but she had spent much of her life knowing that the rules were wrong, if she was going to sacrifice everything to try to save the world why not make it a world worth saving?

~~/~~

The day passed quickly, Arya and Gendry were both sore and tired when they returned to their tent but it had been a good day. They had heard nothing about how the parley between Renly and Stannis had gone but that was not surprising. The training left them both starving and they took their evening meal early, Arya was just considering removing her armour when a messenger came to summon them to Renly's tent.

When they arrived Brianne was the Kings Guard on duty. She nodded at them as they entered the tent. Renly was sitting at his desk writing when they entered. He finished what he was writing and put the quill away. There were many candles lighting the room but Arya's eyes were drawn to a larg candle on a tall and elaborate candle holder on the desk.

"Lady Arya, nephew." He greeted warmly. "Ser Brienne tells be you have spent your day training, I hope you don't have too many bruises."

"Every hurt is a lesson, and every lesson makes you better, your grace." Arya replied.

Renly smiled at her and stood. "I too have learnt a lesson today, you were right about my brother's standard, and your words shook fear into his men. You were correct that his men are Zealots, I should thank you. I don't think you need to worry too much about that red priestess though, I believe the only power she wields is between her legs." He suddenly released what he had just said. "Forgive me, that was crass, I believe she seduces, but I doubt she has any real magic. In the morning I will destroy my brother's army."

Arya watched Renly as he walked towards a large standing mirror. "You seem confident of that, your grace."

Renly nodded. "I am." Brienne approached him and started removing his throat guard.

Arya suddenly felt sick, this was all too familiar… her heart started to race. "Don't take your armour off." She whispered.

Renly laughed. "I am safe here, lady Arya."

She felt Gendry tense behind her and step closer to her. Brienne took the armour and walked to the next room of the tent to put it away. Suddenly there was the sound of wind, the cover and the entranceway to the tent moved and a dark swirling mass entered the tent. Brienne re-entered from the other room but she was too slow and she froze at the sight before her as the shadow took the form of a man behind Renly. Arya went to move but Gendry was faster, as the shadow went to stab Renly Gendry shoulder barged him out of the way, taking the shadow blade instead.

Brienne caught Renly as he fell, Arya had the Valyrian dagger in her hand a moment later, as the shadow turned and tried for another attack Gendry again threw his body between it and Renly. Arya brought the dagger down on the shadows back and twisted it. The shadow seemed to scream in pain, a howling of winds, it dissipated and reformed in front of her. It swung to attack but she was quicker, she got a gut shot this time and slowly slid the blade upwards. The shadow demon seemed to shriek then disappeared.

Before Arya could think about her actions she struck her blade deep into the candle on the desk, her thoughts on Melisandre. "Go back to Asshai!" She yelled. Suddenly she felt as if she was looking out through a fire. She saw Melisandre sitting in a chair facing her, fire was where Melisandre's power lie.

Arya thought of the North, of Winterfell and summer snows, of cold winds in which no fire will light. She willed every flame in Melisandre's room to go out, and somehow it did. But she didn't stop there, she was a winter wind now, and she swept through Dragonstone taking out every candle, every fire in every hearth. She saw a man in what looked to be a Lord's room, bleeding, curled up in pain in his bed… she saw a woman in a room surrounded by preserved horrifically deformed babies… a girl in a tower, with partial greyscale on her face, surrounded by books… she saw Ser Davos… she saw guards, suddenly afraid as their watch fires were blown out…

Eventually Gendry's voice brought her back. "Mi'lady, please, Arya, please… wake up!"

Gendry was kneeling on the floor in front of the desk holding her. The room was dark, all of the candles had been blown out, but there was a dim light coming from somewhere… it took her a few moments to realise that the light was from her armour. She looked down and realised that some of the runes were glowing. She looked up at Gendry and saw the two holes in his tunic where the shadow demon had stabbed him. She placed her hand over the holes then winced, realising that there was a small burn on her hand. "Gendry?" she pushed herself into a sitting position. "How bad is it?"

"It's okay, mi'lady." Gendry tried to reassure her.

Arya shook her head. "No, it's not okay, you were stabbed by a shadow demon, twice, show me."

Gendry shook his head. "Mi'lady, the chainmail protected me."

"Show me," she begged him. "I need to see for myself."

He nodded and pulled back a bit. He pulled his tunic off revealing the Valyrian Chainmail. Arya heard Renly gasp and Brienne take a sharp intake of breath at the sight but she ignored them. There were two dark marks on the chainmail. She pressed her hand against them, ignoring the pain of her hand.

"I need to see if it got through. Take the mail off." Gendry nodded, he removed the mail, and his undershirt, his chest looked unmarked. Arya placed her hand against it, needing to be sure. "Gendry, I need you to promise me something." She whispered.

Gendry nodded. "Anything, mi'lady."

"If it starts to feel different, too hot, too cold, if it starts to change colour, you will tell me. If she's marked you we can fight it, but you have to tell me, promise me."

He touched her cheek gently. "I promise."

She nodded, then she rested her head against his bare chest, wrapped her arms around him and started to cry. He held her gently, stroking her hair and letting her sob. "She can't have you." Arya whispered against his chest. "She's not taking you away from me, not again. I won't let her, I won't let her hurt you, not this time."

Gendry said nothing, he just held her close, stroked her hair, and let her cry.

~~/~~

Part 14:

Reluctantly Arya pulled herself away from Gendry's chest and the reassuring sound of his heartbeat. She was tired, all she wanted to do was stay where she was and drift off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Gendry would keep her safe. But she knew that wasn't an option. They were sitting on the floor of a tent belonging to a man who considered himself a king, and that king would soon want answers.

She reached towards the desk with her left hand as she stood and winced as the burn on her hand came into contact with the hard wood. Gendry caught the action and was suddenly at her side, his hand lightly on her wrist in an instant as he examined the extent of the burn in the diming light that was still coming from her armour. The burn was worse than she had thought.

"Mi'lady," He whispered. "You need to get this tended to before it gets infected."

"Let me see." Renly ordered as he briskly crossed the room. Gendry quickly stepped aside to allow him room. As Renly inspected Arya's burn Gendry quickly retrieved his undershirt and put it back on. "Gendry's right, Ser Brienne, go find somebody to tend to this, and get these candles re-lit."

Brienne looked from Renly to Gendry and Arya then back again. "You're grace, I…"

"These two have already proven that I am safe in their hands," Renly replied, addressing her concerns. "Go."

Brienne nodded and bowed stiffly before turning to leave the tent. Arya was sure that Brienne was ashamed that it had been Gendry who had taken the blows of the shadow blade, not her. Arya wanted to say something, but she also knew that anything she said would be misconceived as pity, so she remained silent. It was only when Brienne raised the tent flap that Arya realised that the whole camp was in darkness.

Arya quickly rushed to the tent flap to look, the last of the light from her armour fading as she reached the entranceway. There wasn't a fire, lamp, or touch light in sight and people were panicking. Gendry, who had by now put the chainmail and his tunic back on, was at her side a moment later, his eyes wide at the sight.

Arya noticed Ser Loras and another guard approaching from the left and Queen Margaery, a hand maiden, and two guards approaching from the right. She took a quick breath and gestured to Brienne to return to the tent before reaching out to Gendry with her uninjured hand. She pulled Gendry out of the tent, making it look like they had been the ones leaving and they quickly stepped away from the tent entrance allowing room for those arriving. She and Gendry quickly slipped away as Ser Loras and his sister both competed to gush their concerns for Renly. On the way back to the tent Gendry managed to ask a servant boy for clean water and bandages to tend to Arya's hand.

When they got back to the tent Gendry bound the tent flap open so that they at least had starlight to see by and then handed Arya's dagger back to her hilt first. "Didn't think you wanted to leave this behind." He muttered.

"Thank you." She replied, giving him a small smile. She was tired and the gesture felt inadequate, it wasn't just the retrieving of the dagger that she was thankful for. She never would have saved Renly without his help, just as she never would have saved her father without his help. She thought of how it had felt sweeping through Dragonstone, extinguishing the fires, and shivered. The experience had been like warging but different, she had left her body behind, like she did when she warged Nymeria, but she hadn't entered another body.

She had a link to Nymeria, she always knew her way back to herself, but tonight had been something else, something dangerous. When Arya had slammed the ancient blade into the fire, and let the fire burn her, she had somehow managed to tap into Melisandre's power and ride it back to the red priestess. But in putting out the file she had closed her road back, she could have easily stayed a roaring winter wind for years, her body alive but empty, yet somehow Gendry had called her back.

She was still struggling to find a way to put all of her thoughts into words when the servant boy approached with a bowl of water and some clean fabric for bandages. They sat at the table and Gendry tended her wound, nether saying a word. Arya watched the expressions play across Gendry's face as different thoughts passed through his mind, the furrow of his brow getting deeper and deeper.

Finally he looked up and met her gaze. "Arya… ?"

She sighed, she really didn't have the words for what she was feeling. "I'm tired, Gendry…" She paused, conflicted over what to say next. Her voice sounded small, even in her own ears. She knew she didn't have to be brave with him. The other self would have lied, but she was trying to walk a different path, if she didn't trust somebody completely then she would go mad, and she had chosen to trust him. "I'm tired and I'm scared." She confessed.

Gendry nodded his head. "I understand why you're so afraid if her now." He said quietly.

Arya shook her head, that wasn't what she had meant. "She's not what scares me, Gendry, I am. She attacked with fire, and I answered with winter winds. The flames are her power, I put them out."

Gendry shook his head. "Wait, you're saying you plunged the whole camp into darkness?"

"Not just the camp." Arya replied. "I followed her link through the flame back to Dragonstone, and then I put every fire out, blocking my own way back. I didn't just channel the wind, I was the wind… if not for you calling me I don't know if I would have found a way back."

Gendry shook his head, his mind racing, trying to make sense of it. "Your armour…" he whispered.

Arya shook her head again. "The armour may be why I'm still alive, it may have made me stronger, or helped me return, but the armour didn't do _that._ I may be a summer child, but I know winter, it's in my blood, just as the storm is in yours. She came at us with fire and I responded with ice, I almost lost myself tonight."

"Okay," Gendry muttered. "Now my head hurts."

"Mine too." Arya agreed. "I… I wish I had the words to make sense of it, but I don't. I'm tired, Gendry, can't you just believe that I believe what I'm saying and leave it at that?"

He nodded. "I can do that, you should get some sleep, do you want me to help you with your armour?"

Arya shook her head. "I'm leaving it on, and you should too, we need to be packed and ready to run at a moment's notice." She pushed herself to her feet and swayed, exhaustion finally winning.

Gendry was at her side quickly. "You're going to let me win one battle." He muttered. Arya looked up and him questioningly but before she could ask what he meant he had scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her towards the bed.

"Robb would have done that." She muttered sleepily as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"So I'm the replacement big brother?" He asked in slightly teasing tone as he gently laid her on the bed and pulled a blanket over her.

"Not a replacement, just adopted, you may not be blood but you're family." Arya muttered. "Can never have enough big brothers." Gendry might have replied but she wasn't sure, sleep pulled her down quickly.

~~/~~

"I'm sorry." Gendry muttered as he gently shook Arya awake. "You were right, we need to move."

"What's going on?" Arya asked groggily.

"War." Gendry replied. "King Renly's forces are marching against his brother and Queen Margaery insists you join her."

Arya was suddenly more awake. " _We_ join her." She corrected. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

"As mi'lady commands." Gendry replied stiffly, drawing Arya's attention to the fact that they weren't alone.

Arya gave Gendry a questioning look and threw the blanket aside, she grabbed her packed backs quickly and they rounded the divider. She was met by a very unhappy looking Ser Loras, a guard beside him.

"You won't be needing your bags." He advised haughtily.

Arya fixed him with a cold look that belied her years, squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and did her best Sansa impression. "Do you presume to tell me what I will and will not need? Gendry, grab _all_ of our things, there is no guarantee that we will be returning to this tent. Ser Loras, why don't you assist him?"

Ser Loras scowled like a bad-tempered little boy then glared at the guard, the guard quickly rushed to give Gendry a hand. They were quickly lead to Queen Margaery's tent, there were a number of noble looking ladies and the tent was well guarded. Margaery greeted Arya with a warmth that didn't quite meet her eyes then glanced at Gendry before giving Ser Loras a questioning look.

"Lady Arya, you will be safe here… Loras, why don't you show Gendry where all the others who are not fighting will be during the battle."

"I'll keep my protector with me, your grace." Arya replied without hesitation. "If that means your invitation no longer stands then simply return our horses to us and let us be on our way."

"Lady Arya, your courage is exceptional, but there is a battle going on." Margaery replied in a voice that was clearly intended to be soothing.

"Yes, there is a battle to the north, but not all roads are blocked. There was a battle last night as well, your grace." Arya pointed out. "One in which Gendry risked his life twice."

The skin around Margaery's eyes drew tight and her smile became thinner. "Yes, I heard." She replied.

"Then you are aware that Gendry's bravery and honour are not in question." Arya replied calmly.

"Of course not," Margaery replied. "But, lady Arya, this is a place for ladies." She said the last statement as if it explained everything.

Arya shook her head. "If this is a place for ladies who are too delicate to pick up a blade in their own defence then it is a place where I don't belong. Trust me, your grace, if things go badly you'll be thankful for Gendry and his hammer."

Margaery's expression softened. "You are very protective of him, aren't you?"

"He risked his life to help me get my father out of a black cell, against terrible odds, he has more than earnt my respect and my loyalty, you grace."

Margaery nodded and stepped aside. "Then we are lucky to have him. Lady Arya, Gendry, come in."

"Your grace…" Loras started to protest.

Margaery smiled. "Sweet brother, you worry too much, if all that our King and Lady Arya have said is true then I should like to get to know Gendry better. After all, we are family now."

"Family? He's a bastard, he has no family." Loras spat.

Arya spun around, drawing her dagger with her uninjured hand as she did so. By the time she had finished turning the blade was at Loras' throat. "He has a family, he has brothers and sisters and aunts that love him very much, yet he has chosen to leave them to ensure my safety. He has more honour than you." She replied coldly.

"Mi'lady, please, there is no need for this. Ser Loras is correct, I am just a bastard." Gendry pleaded, trying to get her to stop.

"No, you're not." Arya whispered, her blade still at Loras's throat. "You're my friend."

"But still a bastard, please mi'lady, put the blade away." The sadness in Gendry's voice broke Arya's heart.

She hesitated then took a step back, putting the dagger away. Gendry stepped between them as Loras went to lung at her, the action leaving him and Loras face to face. Loras decided to redirect his rage and swung at Gendry. Margaery grabbed Loras' arm but she was too slow to stop the punch from connecting with Gendry's jaw, Gendry made no attempt to block it. Arya went to lung at Loras but Gendry held her back.

"Brother, that is enough!" Margaery yelled.

"She tried to kill me!" Loras replied.

Gendry held Loras' gaze. "No, Ser Loras, if she had tried to kill you she would have succeeded. I've seen her take down bigger men than you. Please do not take it personally, it is her love for her brother, Jon, which causes her to defend me so."

"Bastard loving wild northerner!" Loras sneered at Arya.

"Yes, she is." Gendry replied with a smile. "She is as wild and as dangerous as a direwolf, and a loyal as one as well." He replied, still holding Arya back. "I'll never understand why she's decided to be loyal to me, but she has."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, that is enough." Margaery interceded. "I understand that we are all very stressed and concerned for our king, but let us be civil. Brother, apologise to Gendry."

"I will not!" Ser Loras replied.

"Then you are not welcome in my tent until you have re-found your manners. Lady Arya, Gendry, my invitation stands, Gendry, I apologise for my brother's rudeness."

Gendry gave Arya a gentle nudge in the direction of the tent. "Mi'lady, please." He said quietly.

Arya didn't want to be the one to back down, she turned to face Loras again. "Gendry is my pack." She advised Loras. "To mess with my pack is to mess with me." With that she turned sharply and walked into the tent, Gendry close behind her.

~~/~~

Part 15:

Arya was still very tired and the talk of the other ladies bored her. She found a quiet corner and pulled out her book, she passed it to Gendry and asked him to choose a house at random, seeing what she could remember. They kept at the game going for about an hour, speaking in low voices, before Margaery came over to join them.

"You can read?" She said to Gendry, curiosity in her voice.

"Not well, your grace." Gendry replied. "Master Mott taught me enough to be useful to him, and lady Arya is helping me get better at it."

Margaery nodded and sat down beside him. "How is your face?" she asked, touching the bruise that was slowly colouring up from where Loras had punched him.

Gendry pulled away from the touch and lowered his gaze. "It is nothing for you to worry about, your grace."

Margaery shook her head and touched his arm. "My brother embarrassed me today, Gendry, I am truly sorry."

Gendry closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again, looking up at her, he gently, but firmly removed her hand from his arm. "I'd rather he hurt me than lady Arya, he wanted to hurt someone, I know what I am, your grace."

"Yes, I know what you are as well." Margaery replied, she touched the bruise on his cheek again. "You are a son of King Robert Baratheon, a nephew of King Renly Baratheon, and living proof that Cersei's children are not King Robert's children. You may be a bastard right now, but that can be changed. Once Dragonstone is taken we will need somebody to help us hold it, and who better than a Baratheon with a Stark at his side?"

Gendry looked at Margaery in shock, his gaze moved to Arya then back to Margaery. "That is a very generous offer, but not one I'm sure I can accept, besides what would I know about leading people?"

Arya's mind was racing. Dragonstone, that was where the Dragonglass was! They needed Dragonstone! Everything had been drawing her south, to Dorne, to Starfall… she knew that there were answers there, answers that she needed… but Dragonstone hadn't been obtainable until now. She touched Gendry's arm gently, drawing his attention.

"Don't be so hasty to make a decision." She said gently. "You haven't even been given the offer yet."

"Mi'lady I… I thought you wanted to go to Dorne." Gendry replied in confusion.

Arya nodded. "I do, but Dragonstone is strategically important." She paused, trying to remember what she had learnt about why Aegon's conquest had been so effective. "With enough ships we could stop all trade by sea to King's Landing, with enough ships we could launch an attack by sea at Blackwater bay while launching an attack on land. With a big enough distraction we could sneak people right into the heart of the Keep through the secret passage, I still have Varys's key and you and I both know the way."

"There's a secret way in?" Margaery asked.

Arya nodded. "Yes, it leads to the black cells, it's how Gendry got father out."

Margaery nodded. "Good, that's good." She laughed and returned her attention to Gendry, gently touching his arm again. "My sweet brother seems to believe that you want to challenge our King's claim, that you want to steal his men and take the Iron Throne for yourself, that's not true, is it?"

Gendry just shook his head in shock. "I… no. Gods no! I'm no Daemon Blackfyre. The seven kingdoms needs peace, not war, we need to be united." He glanced at Arya then looked back at Margaery. "Winter is coming, and it will be a long and harsh one. It doesn't matter if you believe mi'lady's visions or not, a long summer brings a long winter, you don't need to be a Stark to know that. We need people in the fields harvesting the crops, not at war burning those same crops down."

Margaery patted his arm. "Spoken like a good leader. I should get back to the other ladies, but we will talk more about this later."

"Arya…?" Gendry asked once Margaery was gone.

"Dragonstone has Dragonglass." Arya whispered. "We're going to need it against the Night King, we won't be able to mine it straight away, but if we have a chance to get control of Dragonstone we need to take it. And if we can get you legitimised at the same time…"

Gendry nodded. "I'm not sure I even dare hope for that." He replied, he rubbed the bruise on his jaw. "At least we understand why Ser Loras was so angry now."

Arya nodded and stifled a yawn, she was still very tired from the night before. "You should read for a while, you have a lot to learn if you're about to become a noble." She made herself more comfortable and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

~~/~~

She dreamt of Harrenhal, of waiting on Twyin through the night as he and his advisor's sort for answers. She dreamt of Reginald Lannister commenting that they could profit from some sleep, and of Tyrion's cruel response, of how because Reginald was his cousin he might even let him wake from that sleep. She dreamt of the discontent amongst the other Lords at Twyin's response. But Twyin hadn't left it there, he'd then stated that Reginald's wife must miss him. Reginald had responded that his wife was at Lannisport, Twyin had replied by suggesting that Reginald better start riding. When Reginald had hesitated Twyin had told him to go again, suggesting that if he didn't it would only be his head that his wife got back.

The dream shifted and changed, turning into a wolf dream. She was running through the forest, the taste of a fresh kill in her mouth. She stopped and howled, a dozen lesser wolves howling back, she was aware of her wolf pack, but she was also aware of her direwolf siblings despite been separated from them by great distance.

She thought first of the wolves at Winterfell. Summer was watching over Bran, Shaggy dog was dozing in a warm patch of sun near Rickon, Lady was curled up at Sansa's feet. Grey Wind was running beside one of the few horses that had learnt to tolerate the direwolves. Robb mounted on the horse with a small band of men behind him, they were riding south, and they were riding at pace. She tried to ask Grey Wind what was wrong, but all she got was an image of Robb reading a message from a raven.

Suddenly she was aware of Ghost, he was north of the Wall and also distressed. She tried to ask him what was wrong and the scene from the night before at Craster's Keep played out in front of her. she saw Jon leave the hut, angry. She saw Craster with a baby in his arms, saw Jon follow him as he took the babe into the woods and placed it in the snow. She saw Craster attack Jon and knock him out. And she saw what Jon saw when he came too, the thing that had taken the child. It was surprising to realise that Ghost retained some of Jon's memories after Jon warged into him, Jon didn't even know that he was a warg yet. Her focus returned to Nymeria and she wondered if her visions and memories affected the direwolf, to her surprise Nymeria's mind answered her, confirming that the answer was yes.

Nymeria howled and she howled with her, they were in the Riverlands, Nymeria was building pack to help fight the coming winter, they were many miles away from any of Nymeria's wolf siblings. Yet somehow Arya felt Greywolf howl in response from the King's road, then Summer back at Winterfell, Lady lifted her head and joined in, Shaggy Dog stood and added his voice. Ghost, north of the Wall, raised his head and nudged Jon. Jon lowered a hand to Ghost, trying to comfort the silent wolf.

The world shifted and tilted as Jon's hand came into contact with Ghost. Suddenly Arya was standing in front of the great Weirwood tree at Winterfell, Nymeria beside her. Jon and Ghost were there as well. Arya focused on Grey Wind and suddenly he and Robb were there too. She turned to Robb.

"What was in the raven? Why are you riding south?" She asked Robb.

"To find you!" Robb replied.

"I'm safe, I'm near Storms End and under the protection of Renly Baratheon." She replied, she turned to Jon. "Why are you riding north of the Wall?"

"Uncle Benjin's missing, and there's been an attack… white walkers. Arya, how?" Jon replied.

"The direwolves, we're all wargs, we're connected to our wolves and they're connected to each other, and we're all connected to Winterfell." Arya replied. "I don't know how long we can do this, you need to tell Robb what you saw at Craster's Keep, now."

Jon reached out and touched her. "You feel real." He whispered and pulled Arya into a hug.

She hugged him gently then pulled back. "Jon, there's no time, you'll get taken prisoner by the Wildlings soon, you need to infiltrate their camp and get Mance Rayder to trust you. To do that you're going to have to do things you don't want to do, there is too much at stake, you have to make Mance Rayder trust you and tell you how he plans to attack the Wall. To do that you will have to make sacrifices. You will have to break your vows and take a wildling wife. Ghost won't be with you, you tell him to stay with Sam and keep him safe, without Ghost at your side I may not be able to do this again. You need to talk to Robb now, do it, even if you believe this is just a dream."

She took a step back and let her brothers talk, she stroked Nymeria's fur and tried to maintain the link as long as she could. When she felt her control weakening she warned them, Robb hugged her first, then Jon, and then both were gone. She was back in the Riverlands with Nymeria, she threw her head back and howled one last time before coming back to herself.

Suddenly she was awake on the floor of the tent. She realised with discomfort that everybody seemed to be looking at her. "What's going on?" She asked Gendry quietly.

"You had another wolf dream," He replied. "Apparently they're not used to somebody howling in their sleep. I did tell them it's quite normal for you."

Margaery approached. "You have quite some lungs on you, lady Arya, you must be thirsty." She signalled to one of the other ladies and they brought over a carafe of water and a glass. "Here, drink, there is food if you are hungry."

Arya pushed herself into a sitting position and gratefully accepted the offered water. Margaery smiled and lightly patted her arm before returning to the other ladies. Arya frowned and looked at Gendry. "Do I howl in my sleep often?" She asked.

"Often enough." Gendry replied, he gave her a gentle smile. "I'll go get us some food."

Arya nodded at picked up the book, looking at what he was reading, House Stark. A smile tugged at her lips and she traced her family tree, as her fingers traced over her own name she realised with some shock that she had forgotten her own name day, she had turned twelve a few weeks ago.

"Would you have told me?" Gendry asked as he came back with food for both of them.

Arya frowned. "Told you what?"

"That we completely ignored your name day." Gendry replied.

She shrugged. "None of us were exactly paying attention to the date, I missed it myself, it's just a name day."

Gendry shook his head in disbelief. "Just a name day." He muttered. "You are impossible, you know that?"

Arya just smiled and took one of the plates. "I had a memory before the wolf dream, one of _her_ memories. I think I know a weak link in House Lannister, and where he will soon be, if we can turn him against Twyin we may be able to divide the Lannister army. If Renly's prepared to put the rights to Casterly Rock on the table…"

Gendry nodded. "You should talk to King Renly about it when he returns."

Arya nodded, she hesitated for a moment, contemplating her dream, the meeting with Robb and Jon had been real, she was sure of that. "I talked to Robb and Jon in the wolf dream…" She said slowly. "Robb's coming south." They both fell silent, considering what that could mean.

Eventually Gendry spoke. "You should go home, do what you can here before you do, but your family needs you to go home. If King Renly offers me Dragonstone I'll take it, I'll get Dragonglass weapons to the Wall and Winterfell, I'll try and achieve anything else you think is important, but your family needs you."

Arya nodded and moved closer to Gendry. "We'll talk about it if it happens." She replied.

"Mi'lady, Arya…" Gendry said gently. "Going home doesn't mean we won't see each other again… after all, you made me pack."

Arya sighed. "And if going home means getting married off in some political alliance?"

"Hm, so that's what you're afraid of. Your father is a good man, he'll find you a good match, we need peace, we need to be united. I know you want to make your own choices, but you are a Stark of Winterfell and winter is coming, you are a high-born and that comes with responsibilities."

"Says the king's bastard that may soon be named a prince." Arya muttered as she leant against Gendry. "They'll marry you off too, you know."

"Maybe." Gendry replied. "It's not about you or me though, is it? It's about the war that's coming, none of them will be prepared, we have to do everything we can to give them a chance. We could be selfish, we could run away, maybe cross the narrow sea, travel the world together… but we'd never forgive ourselves for leaving them all to die." He put his arm around her and she lent in closer against him. "We'll do what we must, mi'lady."

Arya sighed. "Then you must learn that book."

"Help me." Gendry replied.

Arya nodded, she put down her plate and picked up the book. "Let's talk about House Florent, Stannis has wronged the house badly and it's going to take some work to repair the damage that has been done."

~~/~~


	4. Chapters 16 - 20

Part 16:

The time dragged slowly, the other ladies seemed nervous of Arya and kept their distance for half of the first day, however they were more bored than she was, one by one they eventually approached and joined in the discussion of the various houses. Most of them were from the Stormlands and slowly the old stories about the Storm Kings started to come out. Although most that live south of the neck claim to follow the Seven many of them were very knowledgeable on the stories about the old gods.

Old Nan had taught Arya much, but there are stories that only the Stormborn are told, just as there are stories that only Northerners are told. For Margaery many of these stories were new. Many stories were told… stories of Elenei, the mermaid that the first Storm King had stolen from the sea… of Argella, brave and strong, and betrayed by her own men… of Dunk and Egg…

After a while Arya turned to Margaery. "The Reach must have the best stories about Gareth Greenhand and his children, will you tell us some, your grace?"

Margery gave Arya a gentle smile. "My Septa never approved of such stories."

Arya laughed. "Nor did mine, but it never stopped old Nan telling them."

Margery's smile deepened. "Never stopped uncle Paxter either. What would you like to hear?"

"Do you have any stories of Rose when she was still Rose of Blue Lake, before Bran the Bloody turned it red?"

If anything Margery's smile grew broader. "Many, she was quite a mischief." Margery settled herself deeper into the cushions, poured herself half a glass of wine and started to tell a story of the demi-goddess that could shapeshift into a crane.

The story telling went back and forth late into the night, many of the ladies had finally retied, Margaery giving over her bed to four of them, cots had been brought in for others, Gendry was softly snoring on the cushions beside Arya, Margaery was awake, as were two of her handmaidens. Arya had drunk three glasses of wine, which was three times what she was accustomed to, she got more comfortable on the cushions and decided to tell one more story.

"Queen Margaery, I have a story about Rose of Blue Lake which I believe you may not have heard, I had never heard it, but I was shown it by a Weirwood, it is the true origin of the blue winter rose, and of House Stark."

That caught Margaery's attention, she leant forward and listened as Arya described the visions that she had seen and explained that Rose was the mother of Bran the Builder, of how Rose's tears in the north had turned to blue winter roses and of how after the child had been born Rose had returned to her now red lake to morn her losses. About how their abilities as wargs and skin-changers came from her, at least in part, about how the occasional red-headed Stark was because of her."

Margaery was fascinated. She pushed Arya for every detail, from the battle at blue lake to descriptions of Rose and Bran the bloody. Once Arya had finally finished Margaery just shook her head and smiled.

"You really are something, Arya Stark, I wish I could talk to Weirwoods."

"It's not about talking," Arya replied. "It's about knowing how to listen. Take me to the Weirwood at Storm's End and I will see if I can teach you."

"That's quite an offer, we'll see." Margaery replied.

~~/~~

Two and a half days later Renly and his army returned, victorious. Arya saw Ser Davos Seaworth chained and bloody amongst the prisoners and knew she had to do something. She grabbed a skin of water and pushed her way through the guards, Gendry struggling to keep up.

"What do you think you're doing?!" One of the guards demanded as he blocked her way.

"Stand aside." Arya replied.

"I don't think so." The guard replied gruffly.

Gendry caught up, war hammer in hand. "That's not how you address a lady, Lady Stark told you to stand aside."

The guard drew in a sharp breath. "Lady Stark?"

"Arya Stark of Winterfell, King Renly's honoured guest." Gendry replied. "She is also known as the Yellow Lady."

"We have orders." The guard replied uncertainly.

"And now they have changed." Arya replied. "Stand aside. This is no way to treat a knight."

The guard scoffed. "Right, the onion knight…"

Arya slapped him as hard as she possibly could. "If not for Ser Davos' bravery Storm's End would have fallen due to the Redwyne blockade, many good men would have starved to death, likely your kin among them, and King Robert might have lost the war. Ser Davos is an honourable and noble man, it is not Ser Davos' fault that Lord Stannis allowed his own mind to be poisoned by a red priestess, now stand aside."

The guard hesitated a moment longer then moved aside. Arya studied Davos as she approached him. He was in chains, badly injured, and his lips were parched. Clearly he had heard the conversation and he watched her as she approached. She unstoppered the water skin and held it to his lips, helping him drink.

"Thank you, mi'lady, you are very kind." Davos replied when he had finished drinking, he gave her a gentle smile. "I see much of your father in you."

"This is no way to treat a knight." Arya repeated. She turned back to the guard. "Those injuries need to be tended, have him brought to my tent, now!" She turned to Gendry.

"I'll find somebody to get bandages and water, mi'lady."

Half an hour later Arya had Ser Davos, still in chains, and a guard at her tent. She and Gendry had seen to his lesser injuries and Gendry had found somebody with more skill to tend to the worse ones. They had set Davos on Gendry's bed. The last injury was just being bound when Renly burst into the tent, Loras and some other guards behind him.

"Stealing my prisoners now, Lady Arya?" Renly asked.

"Protecting your honour, your grace." Arya replied calmly. "I am sure you would not stand for Ser Loras, or any of your other knights, to be treated the way that Ser Davos was being treated. There is a code when one takes a knight as a prisoner, your guards failed you and require discipline for their failures. I interceded before their failure could reflect poorly on you."

"Then I thank you for interceding, but perhaps you could have discussed it with me first?" Renly replied with a tight smile.

"Your grace, there is no room for discussion when it is a matter of honour, any delay would have been a disgrace, both to you and to myself. Besides, a King has more important matters to attend to."

"I see," Renly replied. "And how would Lady Arya Stark suggest we procced with our prisoner now."

Arya smiled. "Well first, we must concede that our prisoner is a war hero who has served House Baratheon well for many years, and who's only crime was to continue to be loyal to a man who was no longer worthy of his loyalty. We must admit that the Targaryen blood in your family's veins does occasionally leave the door open to madness, that Stannis truly believed that he was Azor Ahai reborn, and that his mind had been poisoned by Melisandre and the power she offered him. That shadow demon that she set on you was only a taste of what evils she is capable of. Eventually even Shireen would have been sacrificed to the fire in your brother's attempt to force the prophecy to come true."

"And then?" Renly asked.

"Then, your grace, Ser Davos must be given a choice. Swear loyalty to you, or spend the rest of his days serving at the Wall. As a war hero, his death would only make him a martyr."

"You are your father's daughter." Renly muttered. He turned his gaze to Gendry. "I hope you're paying attention, nephew, you'll get no better teacher than a Stark."

"Nephew?" Davos muttered, really looking at Gendry for the first time.

"Yes," Renly replied approaching Davos. "Nephew, Gendry here is one of Robert's sons." Arya noticed that Renly didn't use the word bastard.

Davos nodded. "Lord Stark said, apparently Gendry and Lady Arya disappeared from the boat before it reached Dragonstone, Lord Stark is quite angry about that."

Arya smiled. "Perhaps a test of your new loyalty to our King could be to go to my Lord Father on his behalf and explain what Stannis was allowing Melisandre to do, explain that I forced Gendry off of the boat to protect him from Stannis, not the other way around, explain the danger that my father put Gendry and his siblings into by telling Stannis about them, and that I got all of them out of Kings Landing before Stannis' men could find them to be used in black magic rituals then murdered. That is, unless you are choosing the Wall."

Renly clapped his hands. "I think that's a marvellous idea, what will it be, Davos? Lord Stark or the Wall?"

"Well, the Wall appears to be the less dangerous option, but I am not a coward." He glanced at Arya. "I assume you will not be joining me for this conversation with your father, mi'lady?"

"No." Arya replied.

"Good, good." Renly replied, taking Davos' question as acceptance. "Ser Davos, you are still a prisoner for now, but since Lady Arya has decided to take responsibility for you I will allow you to remain her guest." He turned to one of the guards. "Unchain him." Renly then turned his attention to Arya. "Lady Arya, I make Ser Davos your responsibility, I will lend you two guards and Ser Brienne to assist, but from this point until Ser Davos is sent north to speak with Lord Stark you are responsible for his actions."

Arya bowed deeply. "I will not disappoint you, your grace."

Renly gave Arya a genuine smile. "I'm sure you won't. Now, I must steal Gendry away from you for a while, do forgive me."

Arya nodded. "I must give one caution, your grace."

"Oh?" Renly asked raising an eyebrow. "And what is that?"

"Should Ser Loras deem it appropriate to raise his hand against Gendry again I will be requesting a trial by combat, and I will be asking Ser Brienne to be my champion." Loras glared at her but she kept her gaze on Renly.

Renly paused for a moment, considering Arya's words. "Understood." He finally replied with a nod, he turned to leave but Davos' words caused him to turn back.

"Forgive me, your grace, Princess Shireen, is she safe?" Davos asked.

Renly expression softened. "Yes, she is safe."

Davos lowered his gaze. "Good, would you… could you…" Davos paused, seeming to struggle to find the words.

"I'll tell her you asked after her." Renly replied gently.

"Thank you, your grace, you are most kind." Davos replied quietly.

Arya's heart broke for the older man, this was a man who had spent his whole life in servitude of one form or another. Even after he had been knighted most didn't consider him a proper knight, he was constantly reminded of his low birth and low education. It was clear that he wanted to ask more, and that he dared not. She decided to ask on his behalf.

"Could he be allowed to see her, your grace, Princess Shireen must be very scared and a familiar face would do her good."

"She is not much younger than you, Lady Arya." Renly pointed out.

Arya nodded. "Yes, but I am a… what were your words, Ser Loras?" She turned her gaze to Loras but he kept his mouth shut.

Gendry cleared his throat. "I believe he called you a bastard loving wild northerner, mi'lady." He replied calmly.

Arya nodded. "Yes, that was it."

"She had just held a blade to my throat!" Loras defended.

"And how good of a knight are you, Ser Loras, that a twelve year old girl can get the draw on you and be able hold a blade to your throat?" Arya asked.

Renly chuckled. "I wouldn't call anybody who can battle and defeat a shadow demon an average twelve year old." Arya raised an eyebrow at his comment. He looked at her for a moment then sighed. "And there you have me, comparing Shireen to you is not a fair comparison. I'll make you a deal, make peace with Loras and I will see if it can be arranged for Davos to see Shireen."

"As soon as he apologises to Gendry, your grace." Arya replied.

Renly turned to give Loras a pointed look. An unspoken conversation seemed to go on between them, then Loras lowered his eyes and shook his head. He took a couple of steps towards Gendry and sighed. "Gendry, some of the comments I made to you a few days ago may have been inappropriate and uncalled for."

Gendry decided to be the better man. "I understand, queen Margaery has explained to me that you were concerned I might be under the impression that I have some sort of claim to stake, I am well aware that I do not, and I have no interest in the Iron Throne."

Ser Loras nodded. "Good."

Gendry turned to Arya. "Mi'lady, perhaps drawing a blade on him was a slight over reaction?"

Arya nodded. "Forgive me, Ser Loras, my first instinct is to protect my pack. It is not your fault that you did not understand that Gendry is pack."

Renly sighed. "Well, those are two of the most insincere apologies I have ever heard, but I guess they'll do. I'll send Brienne along shortly. Gendry, come, there is much to discuss."

Gendry glanced at Arya and then nodded. "Of course, your grace." He started walking towards the entranceway of the tent.

"You know, I think I'd much prefer it if you called me uncle." Renly replied.

Arya watched the expressions quickly flicker across Gendry's face, shock, confusion, awe, hope... he quickly pushed the hope away, eventually he nodded and swallowed thickly. "As you wish… uncle." He drew the right corner of his lower lip into his mouth, an action that he did when he was nervous or uncertain, and followed Renly out of the tent.

~~/~~

Part 17:

It had been three hours since Gendry had left with Renly. Davos was asleep on Gendry's bed, his snores loud and erratic, Arya had been flicking through the book but she couldn't focus. The two guards and Brienne stood calmly. With a sigh Arya shut the book, she stood up and stretched then started pulling the table to the side of the tent. Before she knew it Brienne had the other end of the table. "Let me help, my lady."

Perhaps Brienne was more bored than she was letting on? Arya considered for a moment asking one of the guards to fetch two training swords, but she knew the sound of swords clashing, even wooden ones, would wake Davos so she dismissed the idea. "Help me clear as much space as possible." She told Brienne.

Brienne nodded. "What for, my lady."

"I haven't practiced my water dancing in a while." Arya answered.

"Dancing." Brienne replied, the disappointment obvious.

Arya smirked. "You'll see." She replied and continued clearing the room.

Once there was enough space she moved to the middle of the room, drew Needle, bowed to Brienne and started to train. She had been training for over an hour and a half when Davos woke up but she didn't stop. If she stopped she would have to think, and if she had to think she would worry, Gendry still wasn't back yet. Servants came in with food and Arya finally stopped training, with a sigh she put Needle away. Gendry still wasn't back and it had been over five hours now. Davos and Brienne helped her pull the table and chairs out then Brienne went to setting the room back in order while Arya and Davos sat down to eat.

"That's an interesting style of fighting you have there, mi'lady." Davos observed.

"It's called water dancing," Arya replied. "It's from Braavos."

"I see, and have you ever been to Braavos?" Davos asked.

"No and yes." Arya replied, her answer causing Davos to look up at her.

"Well that's an interesting reply." He remarked.

Arya sighed. "I know you've seen things that you cannot explain, and I know that you're a man who trusts only what his own eyes have seen, have you seen the … _things_ … that Melisandre can create?"

Davos lowered his gaze. "Yes." He replied slowly.

"So you are aware of what attacked Renly a few days ago?" Arya pressed.

"I cannot say that I know what it was but I've seen it, yes." Davos replied quietly.

"And you saw Stannis after I stabbed it twice? The first stab was in the back and the second stab was in the belly, cutting upwards." She pulled her dagger and placed it on the table. "This is what I stabbed it with."

Davos nodded slowly, his eyes on the blade. "Stannis had matching wounds." He whispered quietly.

"I know, I saw them." Arya replied. "Just as I have seen Braavos, yet I have never been there. Sometimes I see things, sometimes I know things, sometimes I can see the path that wasn't taken instead of the one we're on. I knew about the attack over a week before it happened, and I have been to Braavos, but not in this life."

"I see." Davos replied quietly.

Arya sighed. "So now you either think I'm crazy or you are scared of me. Ask Gendry why I made him get off of the boat. As Ser Brienne or King Renly about what happened the night that Melisandre sent a shadow demon to kill him, about the day before, when I told them it would happen. Ask Ser Buckler and his men who were there over a week earlier, many miles from this camp, when I woke up screaming and talking about broken antlers on rose petals splattered with blood. Trust me, none of them wanted to believe me either, but I was able to prove to them that my visons are real, the only person who can't seem to hear my warnings is my father."

"How?" Davos asked.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Arya asked with a sigh.

Davos shook his head. "Maybe not." He picked at his food.

Arya nodded. "Good, because I'm not sure that I can. I don't claim to be chosen by some special god or to serve some higher purpose, all I know is that terrible things are coming and I know how to stop some of them. But people look at me and all they see is an angry little girl, it's a fight to get them to see past that. Winter is coming and we are running out of time."

"Spoken like a Stark." Davos muttered.

Arya laughed. "Family curse I guess, we keep reminding people that winter is coming but no one ever takes the warning seriously enough." She decided to change the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you." Davos replied.

They continued their meal in silence. Once they were finished Arya settled down on the cushions with her book to read for a while. Eventually she resigned herself to the fact that Gendry wasn't coming back anytime soon. The guards were changed out and Arya relieved Brienne, telling her to come back in the morning. Arya removed her armour and went to bed.

~~/~~

She wasn't sure what had woken her, she listened for a while but she couldn't find the answer. She crept out of bed, quiet as a cat, and picked up her dagger. She controlled her breathing and carefully made her way to the edge of the divider. Gendry was sitting slumped at the table, his head in his hands. Was he hurt?

Arya scanned the room but there was nothing to suggest any danger, both guards were awake and looked unconcerned. She approached Gendry carefully, waiting until she was close to whisper his name. "Gendry?"

Gendry jumped. "You're awake," He whispered. "Did I wake you? I didn't mean to wake you." The smell of wine was strong on his breath and he sounded sad.

"You're drunk." Arya muttered.

"Very drunk." Gendry agreed, his brow furrowed. "Are you disappointed in me?" The tone of his voice suggested that he expected her to be disappointed in him.

Arya pulled up the seat beside him. "Gendry, what's wrong?"

"You should be disappointed in me." He whispered quietly, he went to shake his head then stopped. "It's too much," He muttered. "It's all just too much. I can't play these high-born games." He rubbed his temples. "Remind me why Dragonstone is important."

The question was almost a plea for reassurance and the desperateness in Gendry's voice shocked Arya, she decided to offer the simplest version of the answer. "Strategically it's the best place to launch an attack on Kings Landing, or prevent one." She replied.

"No, no, not to them, to you. Remind me why Dragonstone is important to you." Gendry pleaded.

"Dragon glass, we need Dragon glass to fight the Night King." Arya answered. She had never seen Gendry like this, gods! What had happened?! What did he mean by 'high-born games'?

"I told them that… their fault if they don't listen, their fault if they all die, can we run away now?" Arya was surprised, she'd never seen Gendry like this, he seemed… broken.

"Gendry, tell me what happened." She begged.

"I can't." Gendry whispered. "Even if I wanted to, I can't, I gave my word."

He was really starting to scare her now. "Gendry, did somebody hurt you?"

Gendry went to shake his head again and groaned. "No… I… the Wall will get their Dragon glass. But to get it I had to agree to do something that I didn't want to do, something that I'm not proud of."

"And that's why you're drunk?" She asked. Gendry nodded. A terrible thought crossed her mind. "Who do you have to marry?"

"Not marry… bed." He replied softly.

"Huh?" Arya asked, confused. Gendry just sat there looking at his hands as if they belonged to someone else. He seemed lost in thought. "Gendry," She asked softly. "What do you mean 'bed'?"

Gendry slowly turned his head to look at her and blinked. He seemed completely lost for a minute and just looked at her, finally he looked away. "I need to go to bed." He whispered.

"Okay." She replied, bewildered.

"Ser Davos is in mine." Gods! He sounded like a lost little boy who didn't know what to do! Was he really this upset that Davos was on his bed?

"Share mine." She replied. It was a large bed, plenty of room to share.

"Arya... no, what would people say?"

"Oh please, there are two guards in the room, what's going to happen with two other people awake in the room? I trust you, come on."

"Two other people being in a room doesn't stop anything." Gendry muttered bitterly. "I'm not putting your repetition at risk like that." He went to stand and tried to shake his head at the same time, the combination of the actions and being drunk causing him to stumble, Arya tried to catch him but he was too heavy and they both ended up on the floor.

"I'm sorry." Gendry whispered. "I've hurt you… I didn't want to hurt you… I'm so sorry."

"Gendry, you're rambling." Arya muttered. "I'm fine."

One of the guards had jumped up at the commotion and approached. "Mi'lady, can I assist?"

Arya nodded. "Gendry is drunk and needs his sleep." She gestured towards her bed.

The guard, who had clearly heard the whole conversation, nodded and helped Arya get Gendry to his feet. Gendry didn't try to protest anymore as Arya and the guard led him to the bed. Arya got the guard to help her remove his over tunic, chainmail and boots. The guard paused for a minute at the sight of the Valyrian chainmail. "Guess he really is a Baratheon." The guard muttered.

Gendry didn't reply, he simply lay down on the bed and moved to the far side of it, turning his back to Arya. She placed his chainmail carefully beside her armour and the guard went back to his post. She studied Gendry's still form for a moment before tucking a blanket over him then climbing onto the closest side of the bed. She had been laying there for maybe two minutes before she noticed that there seemed to be a slight tremor to the bed. She turned to face Gendry's back and realised that his shoulders seemed to be shaking, moving closer she realised that he was quietly crying.

She placed a hesitant hand on his back and started to rub it. After a few minutes Gendry seemed to calm down but she rubbed his back until her arm started to ache. She rolled over, trying to give him more of the bed and tried to will herself to go to sleep. Gendry rolled over towards her and put his arm around her waist, resting his forehead against the back of her shoulder.

"Thank you." He whispered hoarsely. "I'm not used to anybody actually caring about me. I'm sorry… I… please don't be disappointed in me."

"I'm not." Arya whispered and put her hand over his. "I wish you would tell me what happened, but I'm not disappointed in you."

"If you knew what happened you would be." Gendry whispered. "I'm sorry… I said no, but they wouldn't accept no for an answer."

"Gendry…"

He hugged her tighter. "Can we just go to sleep?" he begged.

Arya squeezed Gendry's hand. "Sleep sounds good." She whispered. She lay there quietly and listened as his breathing slowly evened out and he drifted off to sleep. She replayed the conversation over and over in her head, trying to piece together what was going on, but she found no answers. It was the early hours of the morning before she finally drifted off to sleep.

~~/~~

Part 18:

The morning didn't bring any more answers. Gendry was snoring soundly and still hugging Arya tightly when she woke up. Every time she attempted to gently move his arm away Gendry responded by hugging her tighter, eventually the need to relieve herself forced her to move his arm away more firmly and get up.

Breakfast came and went yet still Gendry slept. Arya talked with Davos and discovered that he had a son, Matthos, who had been Stannis' squire and that he didn't know if his son was alive or dead. She sent Brienne to find out if Matthos had survived. An hour or so later Brienne returned advising that it was believed that Matthos was alive and that he had been seen aiding Melisandre's escape. Davos seemed more upset than relieved at the news. It turned out that he was quite concerned about the red priestesses' influence over his son. Davos expressed a concern that they would never see Melisandre, and therefore his son, again. Arya however, didn't believe that they would be quite so lucky.

"We will see Melisandre again." Arya said quietly. "The temple of the Red god won't walk away from Westeros so easily. As to your son, he may not be the man you knew when you meet him again."

Davos looked at Arya thoughtfully. "How did a girl so young become so worldly?" He asked.

Arya thought about the answer, and about her memories of Davos from the other life. Her thoughts moved to Brienne and what she may never learn of herself because of what Gendry and Arya had changed. "If I answer you honestly I will need you to hear me out, you may not believe what I have to tell you, but please, hear me out to the end. I trust and respect you, Ser Davos, just as I trust and respect Ser Brienne, what I have to say is not for the ears of the guards though."

Brienne nodded and ordered the guards to station themselves outside the tent. Arya insisted that Brienne sit, explaining that what she had to say would take some time, then slowly she began to explain everything. "I don't expect you to believe what I am telling you at first, but indulge me. I know that neither of you believe in the old gods, but you have both seen that blood magic is real. I do get visions, but most of what I know is because I used blood magic to go back to my younger self and try and change things."

She watched Davos stiffen and move slightly away from her. "Blood magic never brings good things." He whispered.

Arya shook her head. "Magic is not good or bad, magic simply is, people are good or bad. Selfish acts will never lead to good things, this was not a selfish act but an act of desperation. My seventeen year old self gave her own life to give my eleven year old self a chance. I have seen dragons fly across the sky, both living and undead. I have seen the Wall fall and the Night King come, I have seen Winterfell overrun with armies of the dead."

She paused, trying to decide how much to tell them, she decided that they needed to know everything. "I have seen Ilyn Payne swing Ice, our family's sword, down towards my father's neck at Joffrey's command at the Sept of Baelor and watched my father's head roll away from his body, my sister collapsing at the sight. I have seen my brother Robb's decapitated body be lead around on his horse with his Direwolf's head sewn onto his shoulders. I have been told of my sister, Sansa, being forced to marry Tyrion Lannister, then abducted by Littlefinger, then forced to marry Roose Bolton's son, Ramsay. Ramsay is an evil man who took great joy in raping, tormenting and cutting my sister, who cut her in such intimate places that she wouldn't show even me the scars. I have been told of my youngest brother, Rickon, being forced to run across a battlefield to Jon and Sansa, only to be shot down with an arrow and die in Jon's arms. You think it is bad that I have used blood magic? I have seen so much bad, if I cannot change our path the next long night will be the last and it will have no end."

"And do you really think you can change it?" Davos asked.

Arya nodded. "I've already changed much, with Gendry's help. My father is alive, my sister is not the Lannister's prisoner, Gendry and I are not Twyin's prisoners at Harrenhal, his brothers and sisters were not murdered by Kings Guard, Yoren of the Nights Watch was not killed by Lannister soldiers for refusing to hand Gendry over, nor Lommi, nor many others… Renly survived Melisandre's attack… I have even seen acts of kindness from the Hound, a wonder, I assure you. Have I changed enough? No. Do we have a chance? Yes. The Wall needs more men, peace needs to be made with the Wildlings and they need to be placed south of the Wall, Dragon glass weapons are needed to fight the armies of the dead and Daenerys needs to be stopped. But I'm actually getting people who can make these changes to listen to me."

Davos nodded. "I see, and why tell us?"

"Because I have seen you stand there holding the wooden toy that was all that was left of Shireen after Stannis allowed Melisandre to burn her alive, the toy that you gave her, I have seen you stand at Jon's side because he trusted you. And Brienne, I have seen you stand at Sansa's. You are both good loyal people, if I cannot trust you then I cannot trust anybody."

Brienne nodded. "Start at the beginning," She said. "Tell us what was, then tell us what you have changed."

Arya nodded. "If I'm really to start at the beginning I need to start with the day I got my direwolf… The day my father executed a deserter from the Wall who claimed he had seen the others."

They talked for hours. Arya kept nothing from them, not one beating at Harrenhal, not even her time with the faceless men or the nature of her revenge on the Fray's for the Red wedding. It was mid-afternoon by the time they had finished talking, and still Gendry slept.

~~/~~

Later in the afternoon queen Margaery came by the tent with Princess Shireen. "I see you have the guards stationed outside?" She noted.

Arya nodded. "There is truly no need for them." She replied calmly. "Ser Davos is an honourable man and he has given his word, we have talked a lot and he understands that Stannis was no longer worthy of his loyalty."

Margaery seemed surprised by Arya's answer, she turned her attention to Davos. "Is this so?"

Davos nodded. "Yes… your grace, Lady Arya has explained many things to me. I see now that Stannis would have brought death and destruction, not peace." He turned his attention to Shireen. "No offence, Princess."

Shireen nodded. "He was letting _her_ burn people alive." She replied. "I love my father, but what he was doing was wrong. I understand that he had to be stopped."

Davos gave her a gentle smile. "I'm sorry I couldn't work out how to stop him without him being killed."

Shireen walked over to Davos and hugged him. "You tried." She replied.

Margaery seemed satisfied with the reply and her expression softened, she cast her eyes around the tent then frowned. "Where is Gendry?"

"Asleep." Arya replied.

Margaery nodded, a slight smile pulling at her lips. "I guess we all did have quite a lot to drink, I suppose he hasn't told you the news yet?"

Arya's eyes narrowed and she watched Margaery carefully. "He hasn't told me anything about what happened yesterday, your Grace, but he didn't seem every happy."

"Well he should be," Margaery replied dismissively. "King Renly is legitimising him and making him Lord of Dragonstone."

"Perhaps that should have been his news to tell me?" Arya replied. "Besides, a piece of paper doesn't change who he is, the fact that it will change how people treat him only shows that those people are stupid. Gendry is brave, kind and loyal… he may not have the same education as you or I, but anybody who needs to ask his last name to know his worth will never understand his true worth anyway."

Margaery gave Arya an indulgent smile. "You care deeply for him, don't you?"

"He is pack." Arya replied simply.

"It is good that he has your friendship, but he is King Renly's blood." Margaery replied. "House Baratheon is his family, as it is now mine. By not finding and acknowledging him King Robert wronged both of them, he stole many years from them in his selfishness. I know things may be overwhelming for Gendry right now, but in time he will come to see that all that is being asked of him is for the good of the House. I'm sure you understand the importance of putting your house first, you need to take a step back and let Gendry find his place in House Baratheon."

The sound of a throat clearing caused both of them to turn. Gendry was standing looking at them both. "Are you jealous, your grace?" He asked quietly. "Does my connection with Arya threaten you in some way?"

Margaery crossed the few steps between them and rested her hand lightly on his arm. "Sweet Gendry, I am just concerned for you."

Gendry became completely still the moment she touched his arm, he looked her straight in the eye until her hand finally dropped to her side and she took a step backwards. Finally he spoke. "You are not my blood, you are family because you married my uncle. Arya is family because she chose me as pack, because she has earnt my respect and my trust, you have not."

Margaery seemed taken aback at his comment. "Gendry…"

"Your grace." Gendry replied coldly, continuing to meet her gaze.

Margaery blinked and seemed to gather herself. "You sweet silly boy," She muttered. "You will come to see how things are soon enough."

"I doubt I will ever see things from your perspective, your grace, although clearly my opinion means nothing to you when it stands between you and what you want." Gendry replied, anger and pain clear in his voice.

Margaery shook her head. "What I want is what is best for the house, in time you will see that. There are things that are expected, required, of one of high birth. I know these things were not taught to you, but once our King is on the Iron Throne we will get you appropriate teachers to assist in your new role."

"What things are we discussing exactly?" Arya asked.

"Family things," Margaery replied dismissively. "And none of your concern. I leave Princess Shireen in your hands for now, I trust she will be safe."

Arya nodded. "Of course," She replied carefully. "She could not be safer than in Ser Davos' presences. In fact, once Ser Davos has returned from his mission north I believe it would be best for everyone if the Princess was made his ward. Perhaps he could also assist Gendry, since he knows how overwhelming such a change in social status can be? It would be a good way to allow Princess Shireen to stay at Dragonstone without adding any additional burdens to Gendry."

Margaery seemed thoughtful. "It is worth considering, once Ser Davos has proven himself." She replied. "Since you claim the guards are no longer needed I believe it is best that Ser Brienne return to her place in the Kings Guard, I will take the two guards outside as well. Ser Davos is not free to wander the camp, but we shall see if your belief that his honour and his word are enough to bind him is correct. Come, Brienne." With that she turned and left. Brienne bowed to Arya and then followed.

Gendry seemed to visibly relax as soon as Margaery was gone. He avoided Arya's questioning gaze and quickly exited the tent. Arya sighed, she left Shireen and Davos to talk in relative private and took her book to the cushions. Ten minutes later servants came in with food and drink. Gendry returned a few minutes later. He picked up some food and sat on the cushions a little way away from Arya.

"How do you feel?" Arya asked, not looking up from her book.

"Terrible." He replied.

Arya nodded. "Have you ever been hungover before?"

"No." Gendry answered.

"Get plenty of water into you, uncle Benjen says that the alcohol flushes the water out of your body, he says he's seen people die of thirst north of the Wall for drinking only strongwine to chase away the cold."

"Tobho Mott says that only fools get so drunk as to feel like the hammer and anvil are inside of their head." Gendry muttered. "Guess I'm a fool."

"I'd disagree there, lad." Davos said from across the room. "Everybody does it to themselves a few times in their lifetime, the fools are those that do it all the time. If you're a fool then more fool am I."

"I bet you've never felt this bad." Gendry muttered.

"Son, I used to drink with pirates, when you drink with Salladhor Saan you keep drinking or you might just get your throat slit under suspicion of having poisoned the wine."

Gendry swallowed thickly at the thought. "I think it's the same with Kings." He muttered.

Arya sat and pretended to read her book while Gendry ate. She wanted to ask him what the hells had happened to make him so angry at Margaery, she wanted to hug him and take all of his pain away, but she couldn't. She sat and pretended to read, giving him space. Once he had finished eating he put the plate down and moved a little closer to her. "I know you're not reading." He muttered. "You've been on the same page since I sat down."

"Maybe it's an interesting page." Arya replied quietly.

Gendry sighed. "I'm okay." He said quietly. "I'm sorry about last night… you don't have to worry about me."

"You're pack." Arya replied. "And once you tell me who hurt you and how…"

He shook his head. "There are some things you can't protect me from, let it go. I know you don't want to, but I'm asking you to let it go."

"Gendry…" She pleaded.

"Arya, please, what happened has already happened, it can't be undone. Yes, I'm angry, and I'm hurt… but you can't fix it. Some things just can't be fixed." There was a sad finality to Gendry's tone.

"What did she do, Gendry?" Arya watched the expressions play across Gendry's face. Eventually he spoke but he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

"She… I will always be a bastard, no matter what a piece of paper says. She made that clear, they're only legitimising me because they have something to gain from it. She seems to think that because I come from nothing I should be grateful that they're legitimising me so that they can use me. If the Wall didn't need the Dragon glass I would have refused their offer."

Arya felt guilty, whatever had happened was her fault, Gendry had put himself in a situation he didn't want to be because she had told him they needed Dragon glass to fight the Night King. "We'll find another way." She replied quietly. "There has to be Dragon glass somewhere else."

"The deal is already done." Gendry replied with a finality that scared her.

"What is the deal?" She questioned.

He looked away. "I can't tell you, I'm sorry Arya, if I tell you the deal is off and the Wall won't get one shard of Dragon glass. Please try not to be too disappointed in me, I thought I was helping, but instead I gave them leverage over me."

Arya closed the remaining gap between them and lent against him. "How could I be disappointed in you? I couldn't have changed anything without your help. If we survive winter it will be because of you."

"No, we will survive winter, but not because of me, because of you." Gendry whispered. He put his arm around her and hugged her close. "Promise me that we will always be friends."

"Not just friends, pack." Arya replied, the words her father always said came to mind. "Winter is coming. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives."

"I like that." Gendry muttered. "The pack survives."

~~/~~

Part 19:

They had just finished their evening meal when Renly sent for Davos, apparently the ship was ready to take him north. Davos thanked Arya for her kindness and promised her that he would do his best to make her father understand why she had snuck off of the ship, and that Gendry was not to blame. Davos was still a little weary of her, the description of her revenge on the Frey's had truly disturbed him. Shireen had been allowed to see him off, so Arya and Gendry were finally left alone.

Gendry had been quiet all afternoon and Arya didn't want to push the matter. She had seen people be hungover before, but she had never seen anybody quite as sick as Gendry seemed, although Theon had come close once, she wondered again just how much Gendry had ended up drinking? Gendry excused himself early and went to bed, leaving Arya alone with her thoughts. She hadn't exactly gotten much sleep the night before, what with worrying about Gendry, so she decided to try and have an early night herself.

Getting to sleep wasn't easy though, she was still worried about Gendry and the older self's memories started running through her head. Her last thoughts before she drifted off to sleep were of the other self confiding in Gendry as to who she was by the river. But the memories didn't stop just because she fell asleep.

~~/~~

 _Harrenhal. Lying in the mud, chained to a post, the smell of death all around them, guards yelling at them to get up…_

 _"That's him, the one who picks." Hot Pie said._

 _"The Mountain." Arya whispered with a surge of fear, she lowered her gaze and started to turn away. She looked back at Hot Pie who was looking straight at the Mountain. "What are you doing?" she hissed._

 _Hot Pie glanced at the young man beside him. "He told me he stares at him every day, that's why he doesn't get picked."_

 _The Mountain came closer and Arya turned away, she heard the Mountain walking back and forth, carefully she turned to look at Hot Pie…_

 _"You." The Mountain said, indicating the man that stared at him every day._

 _Arya was too shocked to turn away again and she ended up being pushed back by one of the guards, Hot Pie pissed himself in fear. The man was wide eyed as he was strapped to the interrogation chair, Arya felt sick as the strap was tightened around his neck, that was the moment that he completely lost hope, the moment that he knew he was dead and she knew that she would be haunted by that moment for the rest of her life. The interrogator, the one they called The Tickler, asked his first question._

 _"Is there gold and silver in the village?"_

 _"I don't know." The man replied._

 _Arya could do nothing but watch as the interrogation continued, The Tickler sat there eating a pear and asking questions about the brotherhood while another man pulled a rat out of a cage and placed it in a metal bucket strapping it to the prisoner. The Tickler seemed to be enjoying himself. A torch was placed against the bucket and the man screamed as the rat started to eat him alive to escape. The man begged him to stop but he wouldn't. Eventually the man gave him an answer, as to if it was true or not who knew? Either way the answer didn't save him._

 _The next day it was an old woman, and the day after that a young boy, every day a different victim, until the day that the Mountain chose Gendry. In the back of her mind Arya knew that Tywin Lannister arrived and Gendry didn't die, but in her dream it didn't happen that way. She watched as the bucket was strapped to him and the torch pressed against it. She heard him yell that he wasn't from the village and he didn't know who the brotherhood. She heard him scream as the rat ate it's was through him and watched as the life drained out of him. His head slumped down and she started screaming._

 _Suddenly the Night King was there. The Night King touched Gendry's dead body and he sat up, he looked up at Arya with accusing dead eyes._

 _"You didn't save me." The dead Gendry whispered. "Why didn't you save me?"_

 _"I'm sorry!" Arya yelled. "Gendry, I'm sorry! I didn't know how to save you!"_

 _"You said you were going to save me." The dead Gendry accused. "But you let them hurt me."_

 _"I'm sorry!" Arya screamed. "Gendry I'm sorry!"_

~~/~~

"Arya! Arya wake up!" Gendry pleaded.

"I'm sorry," Arya whispered, still half asleep. "I'm sorry I didn't save you."

Gendry shook her and the tent finally came into focus, he was kneeling beside her bed, concern causing his brow to wrinkle. "Arya, wake up, look at me, I'm here."

She flung her arms around him and clung to him sobbing. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't stop them from hurting you."

"Hey, shh, shh." Gendry whispered holding her close and rubbing her back. "It's okay, shh."

She didn't know how long she cried, it seemed like a long time but she just couldn't stop, and the more Gendry tried to comfort her the guiltier she felt. Sure, the dream wasn't real, part of it was a memory of something that would now never happen and part of it was a nightmare, but _something_ bad had happened to Gendry and it was her fault. Whatever had happened was because he was trying to help her to get Dragon glass to fight the Night King.

Eventually she ran out of tears and just clung to him tightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. She felt herself starting to drift off to sleep and tried to fight it but she couldn't, she was almost asleep when he gently lowered her back down to her pillow.

"You really do care about me, don't you?" He muttered, more to himself than her. He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead and tucked her in, the next thing she knew it was morning.

~~/~~

Breakfast was already on the table and Gendry was already eating when Arya woke up. She was uncomfortable about her nightmare the night before and she approached the table cautiously, not knowing what he would say about it. But Gendry just gave her that lopsided smile of his and pushed the plate of bacon towards her. The plate was three quarters full which caused her to raise a questioning eyebrow at him. Gendry just shrugged and continued to eat his eggs. She shrugged back and put a few more pieces of bacon on his plate.

"Arya…"

"I need more room for eggs." Arya replied as she reached for a piece of bread. "Maester Lewin says eggs help you grow."

"We're going to need a lot more eggs then." Gendry replied teasingly. Arya just pulled a face and reached for the eggs. Gendry's expression grew more serious. "Arya, I'm sixteen, your twelve, it's not your job to protect me."

Arya looked at Gendry for a moment and considered her answer. "Have you ever heard of Osric Stark?" She asked.

Gendry shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

Arya nodded. "He was Lord Commander of the Watch for sixty years, do you know how old he was when he died?"

"He'd have to be close to eighty at least." Gendry replied.

Arya shook her head. "He died before his seventy-first birthday, he was both the longest serving Lord Commander and the youngest, he joined the Watch at age nine after his brother was crowned King in the North, and was elected as Lord Commander less than two months after his tenth name day."

Gendry frowned. "So what? Because you're a Stark you're supposed to be invincible by the time your age hits double digits?"

"Not invincible… but age isn't exactly an excuse."

"Arya, it's not your job to protect me, if anything I should be protecting you. Look… I know I haven't been very happy the last couple of days, but it's not your fault, please don't think it's your fault… meeting you, it turned my life upside down… I owe you so much. Nobody has ever cared about me the way you do, and I… you are possibly the most important person in my life… the last thing I want is for you to be blaming yourself for things that you have no control over. Because of you my life actually means something. Sure, so much has changed so fast and I'm not handling it as well as I could, but that is not your fault."

"It's more than that." Arya muttered.

Gendry nodded. "You're right, but it's still not your fault, I need you to believe that."

Arya didn't know how to reply to that, luckily they were interrupted by a messenger advising that Renly was holding court in an hour and they were both required to attend.

~~/~~

Part 20:

Less than ten minutes after the messenger had interrupted breakfast Margaery burst in with two handmaidens and insisted on trying to make both Arya and Gendry "More presentable."

Arya was her first target, she had some stupid looking dress with her that she wanted Arya to put on. The dress was flimsy and a light blue colour, matching the dress that Margaery was wearing, Arya immediately started arguing that it didn't make sense for her to wear a blue dress. She pointed out to Margaery that her armour was made of dragon skin, that it was rare and far more valuable than any dress that Margaery could offer. Then Margaery tried to convince her to let them put her hair up in some stupid impractical southern style with silly twists and ridges. Arya again refused, but did agree to make her braids more elaborate than usual.

In frustration Margaery then turned her attention to Gendry. The clothes that she wanted him to wear were ridiculous and every time she stepped near Gendry he stepped away. She had him almost backed up to the side of the tent when Arya hastily stepped between them. She got Margaery to show her the choices of clothing that the hand maidens had brought in for him.

"The boots are a better quality." She noted, picking out the darkest pair. She then looked through the trousers, most of them were leggings or light fabrics with fancy, impractical cuts, but there was one pair of dark coloured heavy trousers. She picked up the trousers and the boots and approached Gendry. "Put these on, loose the over tunic and show off your chainmail, wet your hair and run a comb through it."

"As mi'lady commands." Gendry replied with a smirk and disappeared behind the divider to change his trousers. When Gendry came back both handmaiden's gasped at the chainmail. Arya had to admit that she had never seen the chainmail in a decent light. "I look stupid, don't I?" Gendry muttered.

Arya shook her head. His thick black hair was slightly dishevelled from removing the tunic and there was light stubble on his chin, he was still too young to need to shave regularly, or to grow a decent beard. The dark trousers and boots contrasted well with the brightness of the chainmail.

"You're just missing something." She said thoughtfully. She picked up his hammer and handed it to him, nodding in approval. "You look like a prince." The words rolled off of her tongue before she had truly even thought about them, it was just something that was often said to her brothers, but the moment that she said it she realised just how true the words were about to be for Gendry.

"Still a bastard." Gendry muttered, clearly embarrassed by Arya's comment.

She shrugged and decided to press the point. "So was Orys, but he was also Aegon the Conquer's best general."

Margaery ran a critical eye over both of them. "Well, it's not the high court look that I was hoping for, but we are at war, I guess you'll both do." She muttered, she forced that fake smile of hers onto her face and placed a hand on Gendry's arm, the action causing him to suddenly become rigidly still. "Let's go to court."

Arya decided that was about enough. "You are too familiar, your grace, and Gendry doesn't like it." She said looking pointedly at Margaery's hand.

Margaery laughed the comment off. "Oh Arya, we are not as frigid as the North, don't be silly."

Gendry shook his head and pulled his arm away from Margaery, taking a step away from her and closer to Arya in the process. It was almost as if Arya's words had given him the courage to do so. "No," He said quietly, lowering his gaze. "You _are_ too familiar, and I find it very uncomfortable, please stop touching me, your grace." His brow wrinkled and he bit the side of his lip, seeming to brace himself for the repercussions of his words.

Margaery's arm fell to her side and her gaze moved from Gendry to Arya then back to Gendry. "Sweet Gendry," She said with a sigh. "You have so much to learn. If you want to survive in court you will need to learn to deal with gentle touches and familiarities, otherwise you will end up as grim as Ne-, you will end up very grim."

Gendry raised his clear blue eyes up to Margaery and studied her for a moment. "Were you about to say that I will end up as grim as Ned Stark?"

Margaery seemed to hesitate for a moment then met his gaze and nodded. "Yes."

Gendry squared his shoulders and seemed to draw himself taller. "Sounds good, I'll be as grim as Ned Stark and people will think twice before touching me without my consent." He held Margaery's gaze and placed his left hand on the middle of Arya's back. "Come, Lady Arya, let us go to court… and be as grim as your father."

Arya nodded and let Gendry guide her out of the tent. They walked quickly, leaving a stunned Margaery behind them.

Court was tedious and long, there were many announcements and many things were discussed, near the start of it Gendry was called forward, officially named Gendry Baratheon, and made the Prince of Dragonstone. Renly made a show of calling him nephew and hugging him fondly, Gendry responded awkwardly and fought not to lower his gaze. Two seats were added at the bottom of the makeshift throne dais and Gendry and Arya found themselves stuck there for the rest of court.

Arya could feel Gendry's discomfort steadily growing and reached over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. She only meant for the action to be quick but Gendry grabbed hold of her hand, lacing their fingers together and rested their joint hands on his knee. It seemed to help him so they stayed like that for the next couple of hours, even causing a snide remark from Loras under his breath about how 'sweet' it was that they were holding hands. Brienne 'accidently' stood on Loras' foot moments after the comment and Arya had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. It was announced that camp would be moving to Dragonstone as a launching place for the attack on Kings Landing, and after court was over the camp immediately started packing down for the move.

~~/~~

Arya and Gendry stood near the bow of the ship as they approached Dragonstone. The Keep was a sight to see, imposing and foreign in design, showing off the sharpness of Valyrian architecture at its prime, as they drew closer however Arya noticed a startling familiarity… gargoyles! She hadn't seen gargoyles since she had left Winterfell! Her mind was quickly drawn back to the first Keep, the one built by Bran the builder. She immediately pointed them out to Gendry.

Her excitement at the sight of them made him smile and she soon found herself explaining to him that most of what Bran the Builder had built at Winterfell was below ground. She explained the multi-layer crypts with their stone statues, guarded by stone direwolves with iron swords laying across their knees, she described the first keep which had now fallen to disrepair. As they talked she found herself describing more and more of Winterfell to him, it seemed to make him happy so she kept talking, but the more she talked the more she realised just how much she missed it. The conflict of emotions left her in an odd mood and she found herself strangely silent as she approached Dragonstone for the first time.

~~/~~

The next week passed by quickly, once Renly's generals had discovered that Arya knew a secret way into the Keep they wouldn't leave her alone. She spent hours in the chamber of the painted table, with men three to five times her age, trying to map out as much of the Red Keep as she could. This lead to her starting to sit in on war council meetings and within a couple of days proven generals were starting to take her opinions seriously. Gendry's knowledge of the lower parts of Kings Landing also proved very useful.

When Arya did get time to herself she would either seek out Shireen, to help her explore the castle, or make her way to Aegon's Garden to practice her water dancing amongst the thorny hedges and wild roses. The tall dark trees didn't compare to Winterfell's Godswood but she enjoyed it all the same. She saw little of Gendry and he often looked tired and stressed, but when she did see him he would always reassure her that he was okay.

To Arya's surprise one of the strongest supporters of her being involved in the meetings was the Lord of the Tides, Monford Velaryon of Driftmark. He often asked her opinion and seemed well satisfied by her answers, especially her desire to strike quickly whilst Tywin Lannister was still gathering his forces. Arya also spoke of the need to divide house Lannister and of the potential rift between Tywin and his cousin Reginald. Whilst many still scoffed at the thought that Renly was taking advice from a girl who had dreams and visions, Monford did not.

On the sixth day after they arrived at Dragonstone Monford approached Arya while she was training in Aegon's Garden. "That armour you are wearing once belonged to my house." He said quietly. "The last person known to wear it was Orys Baratheon, he was given it when he was six. He outgrew it and it got put away and forgotten about." He seemed to hesitate for a moment as if considering his next words carefully. "Have any of the runes revealed themselves to you?"

Arya nodded and gestured towards the rune that had first felt warm to her. "This one is in regards to foresight, it helped me foresee Melisandre's attack… and when the attack happened I…" She shook her head. "I'm not quite sure how to explain it."

Monford gave her gentle smile. "Myth has it that Orys couldn't wake a single rune." He gestured towards a nearby stone bench, a thick slab of stone mounted on the back of two stone dragons. "I would love to listen if you are willing to try and explain."

Arya nodded and they both sat on the bench. She told him about how Gendry had found the armour and where, she told him about the first time she had noticed a rune feel warm, about the visions, she talked about the night that Melisandre had attacked and about how she had slammed the blade into the flame… about what had happened after. Monford was interested in the dagger so she showed it to him. He didn't scoff or appear to doubt anything that she told him, he simply listened. When she had finished talking he sat thoughtfully for a while. Eventually he spoke.

"I believe that you only found that armour because it wanted to be found, I believe that if you had moved away from it without finding it something would have tried to call you back to Kings Landing… It was not the first time that you had found yourself in that part of the Keep, was it?

Arya shook her head. "No."

He nodded. "Were you led there by an animal?"

Arya frowned then nodded. "A cat." She whispered.

He nodded again. "And have you ever seen through an animal's eyes?" Arya nodded. They sat quietly for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally Monford stood, he turned and bowed deeply to her. "When the day comes that the Yellow Lady needs the ships of House Velaryon the Lord of the Tides will answer the call."

Arya was stunned, she quickly pushed herself to her feet not wanting to be disrespectful. "If the call is ever made, the decision will not be made lightly, Lord Velaryon."

Monford nodded. "I know, the blood of the First Men is strong in you, control the armour, do not let the armour control you." And with those cryptic words he turned and left.

Once he was gone Arya sank back down on the stone bench running their conversation over in her head. She didn't quite understand what had just happened but it seemed more important than she could comprehend. She sat there, in the middle of the scared garden built for Aegon the Conquer, surrounded by strange dark trees that she didn't know, by thorny bushes, wild roses and cranberries, yet they held no answers for her and the stone dragons remained silent, keeping their secrets.

~~/~~


	5. Chapters 21 - 25

Part 21:

Arya had spent so much time in the room of the painted table that she wondered why they didn't just put a bed there for her. Apart from a couple of small breaks she had been in the room since breaking her fast with Shireen, she glanced out of the vaulted arches at the end of the room and saw that it was nearly dusk. The end of the room was five open arches, likely designed that way so that dragon riders could mount their dragons from this very room, the winds were rising and the chill of the breeze was a welcome relief.

Thoughts of Balerion and Meraxes filled her head, of Vhagar, Vermithor, and Silverwing… ' _Jacaerys Velaryon rode Vermax, Baela Targaryen rode Moondancer… And the Night King rode Viserion and killed us all_.' She reminded herself. She turned her head away from the arches and pushed all thoughts of dragons out of her head.

"Cold?" Renly asked and she realised he had been watching her. Renly's fine clothing was too light for this war room and she watched as he repressed a shiver.

Arya shook her head. "It will be in winter, but I quite like it… I was just thinking about what those arches were built for, would be useful to have Meraxes or Vermax right now." She saw Lord Velaryon's smile out of the corner of her eye and wondered if he had noticed that she had intentionally named a dragon ridden by a Velaryon? He didn't miss much so he probably had. She sighed and focused on the matter at hand. "Look, I could spend a year going over what I know of the back passages of the Red Keep and it still wouldn't be enough, we need to attack now-"

"I'll lead it." Gendry said quietly from his place on the other side of the table.

"No!" Arya and Renly both said it once. Arya lowered her gaze and let Renly speak.

"You are my heir, at least until Margaery gives me one, I can't risk you, you'll stay at Dragonstone."

Gendry squared his shoulders and looked Renly in the eye, it was as if something Renly had said had hit a nerve but Arya didn't understand what. "I know the way." He said calmly. There was a disturbance at the door and somebody cleared their throat but Arya kept her attention on Gendry. "I know how to get into the Keep and I know my way up to the black cells."

"And do you know your way past the black cells?" She challenged. "Do you know the ways up to the kitchens and the back ways to the higher lords living quarters? Do you know the winding servant ways that even the guards get lost in?" She had both hands on the table now and she was leaning forward. "I could make my way from the black cells to the door of the royal chambers blindfolded and not be seen by anybody save a cat."

"You're not doing it." Gendry replied calmly.

How dare he?! How dare he give her an order?! Had being made prince of Dragonstone gone straight to his head?! "It makes the most military sense!" She replied. "We draw their attention to twin attacks, one by land and one by sea, and sneak a small party through the secret way to catch Cersei by surprise."

"You're right." Gendry agreed. "It makes the most sense, and the maps you've been working on over the last week and a half will have to do because you are not going."

It was as if everybody else in the room ceased to exist, even Renly had drawn quiet at their argument. There was just Gendry and Arya leaning across the painted table glaring at each other. Arya found that she was shaking with rage. "Why?" She challenged.

A smirk pulled at Gendry's lips but it was not a happy action. "Because you are Arya of House Stark, you are the youngest daughter of the line of the Kings of Winter, and it doesn't matter how cleaver and how capable you are, if you do this, and you die, all that the North will see is that we let Ned Stark's twelve year old baby girl put her life at risk."

"Osric Sta-" She started.

Gendry slammed his fist into the table. "I don't care if Osric Stark was ten!" He yelled. "I don't care about Osric, or Torrhen, or Ellard, or Cregan! I don't care about a thousand different Brandon's or a hundred different Rickon's! I don't care about the Karlstarks or Lonnel Snow! I care about you, Arya! You promised! You promised that after we got Berra away from Littlefinger you would stop coming up with plans that put your life at risk! You are too important! I will not stand back and let you put your life at risk!"

"I agree." A familiar voice said from across the room.

Arya turned her head in shock. "Father."

She wasn't imagining it. Her father was standing there, just inside of the doorway. Robb was to his right with Grey Wind beside him. Robb seemed to have gotten taller. Theon was a step behind Robb and to his right and Ser Davos was standing to the left of Father but a couple of steps back. It was Robb who broke the silence of the room.

"I thought you'd have a couple more name days under your belt before I saw you at a war council, little sister." He said in that easy manner of his.

"The Yellow Lady has more than earnt her place." Lord Velaryon said coolly. "She is a better tactician than half the people in this room, if our King would put her in charge this war would be over by now."

Arya felt frozen in place, she watched as her father took a few steps into the room, she realised with surprise that he had a walking stick and moved with a noticeable limp now. She had to wonder if the limp was from the injury he had received at the hands of Jamie Lannister's men. "High praise indeed, especially coming from such an honourable House, but I do not know where this name Yellow Lady has come from? She is Arya of House Stark and she belongs at Winterfell."

It was Renly that attempted to break the tension in the room. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, it is late…" His gaze moved to Ned Stark. "And you have travelled far, perhaps we should call it a day?"

Unfortunately Monford Velaryon wasn't backing down. He stood tall and threw his silver-white hair over his shoulder, his sea-foam green eyes seemed to get a shade darker as he held Ned Stark's gaze and answered him. "She is called the Yellow Lady because she has earned the name," He said calmly. "And because of her yellow, spell-forged, dragon-skin armour, which was once an heirloom of House Velaryon. King Renly is indebted to her for saving his life and I would have her at my side over any man in this room, even you, Lord Stark."

"Again, high praise." Ned responded coldly. "And again, she belongs at Winterfell." His words were hard but he looked tired and he lent heavily on the stick for support. The long stairs up to the top of the Stone Drum must have taken a lot out of him.

Arya sighed, she turned to Renly. "Your grace, is this counsel concluded for the day?"

Renly nodded. "Yes, Lady Arya, this counsel is concluded for the day."

Arya nodded. "Then, by your leave, I'm going to go find myself some supper." She bowed deeply to him then turned on her heels towards the door. "Robb… Theon, are you coming?" She asked as she breezed past them.

Robb hesitated, then followed her, a confused Theon trailing after him, Grey Wind caught up to her on the stairs and nuzzled her hand. She scratched Grey Wind's ear but gave no other acknowledgement to Robb or Theon until they had reached her rooms near the top of the Stone Drum. Arya had been placed in estate rooms, fit for a general, and only three floors below the room with the painted table. The rooms were a high honour and she knew that some of the Lords loyal to Renly had complained about it, at first. She had won most of them over, but her biggest challenge would be convincing her father what she was capable off.

Her quarters were a small apartment taking up the entire floor and consisting of five bedrooms, two living areas, an office and even a private privy. It was far more than she needed, but since she had the spare rooms she arranged for the other beds to be made up. She sent a servant to arrange food for them and asked for baths to be drawn for Robb and Theon. Only when all of that was seen to did she finally turn to her brother and greet him properly.

Robb hugged her tightly and then took a step back, he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her up and down. "You seem older." He muttered. "Look at you, so calm and acting all grown up."

"Still short though." Theon muttered.

She ignored Theon and looked away from Robb's gaze. "War does that." She muttered. "You haven't had to take a life yet, have you?"

Robb's hands dropped away from her shoulders and he studied her even more intently. "No." He said quietly, a sadness entering his eyes.

Arya nodded. "Good." She said quietly. "Keep that innocence as long as you possibly can, once it's gone it's gone."

"Oh? And how many people have you killed, horseface?" Theon asked, intentionally using one of the nicknames he knew she hated the most.

The comment would have gotten a rise out of the Arya that he had known, and Arya had to again remind herself that he hadn't committed the horrible crimes against her family that she remembered. She started counting, barely conscious of the fact that as she listed them out in her mind she was also counting them out on her fingers. Varys had been first, then an unnamed guard… by the time she had gotten Sansa to the boat her kill count had been eleven, Littlefinger had made twelve. Then there had been a number of bandit attacks… that put her to eighteen… did Stannis count?

"I'm not exactly sure," She said quietly. "Less than twenty, but more than fifteen."

Theon took a step back and shook his head. "You're joking." He said, but there was a look of fear in his eyes.

She held his gaze. "No, you're the joker, Theon, do you want details?"

Theon broke her gaze and looked away. "No." He said quietly.

Arya nodded. "Good," she said calmly. "Ever call me horseface again and I will slit your throat."

Theon was suddenly bold again, the smirk back in place. "You wouldn't dare."

The Valyrian dagger was in her hand and at his throat before his sentence was finished. "Try me." She whispered.

"Arya!" Robb called out in shock. "Let him go."

Arya stepped back and re-holstered the blade quickly. Servants came in with food, water and baths, she could feel Robb's eyes watching her but she ignored him, stepping to the window and watching the waves play against the shore. Robb and Theon bathed while she ate and she excused herself soon after they came back into the living area. She was tired, and she wasn't quite ready to face their questions just yet. She slept badly, memories of the red wedding and Grey Wind's head on Robb's shoulders replaying through her head on repeat.

~~/~~

When morning came father was sitting in the main living area with Shireen, talking softly, Robb and Theon were still asleep. Shireen was a lonely girl and it had become a ritual for Arya to break fast with the young princess. Ned gave her a gentle, but sad, smile as she entered the room.

"Princess Shireen was just filling me in on what Melisandre and her father had been up to." He said quietly. "I never knew, I was right here and I never knew."

Arya nodded. "She poisoned his mind." She said quietly. "She twisted his thoughts with her talk of prophecy, just because you have seen something doesn't mean that it cannot be changed." She hesitated, but she knew that if she didn't take this chance she might never get another. "I have seen Ice coming down on the back of your neck at the Sept of Balor at Joffrey's command. I have seen Greywolf's head mounted on Robb's dead body at the Twin's. I have seen the Bolton's named the Lords of Winterfell and the Wardens of the North, yet none of that has come to pass."

"Gods, Arya, why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried to," Arya whispered. "At Tobho Mott's forge I started to try and tell you, but you wouldn't listen."

"And on the boat?" Ned pushed.

Arya shook her head. "I couldn't take the risk, Gendry's life was at stake, if I had begged you to turn the boat around and told you that Stannis would let Melisandre hurt Gendry would you have believed me?" She asked.

"No." Ned sighed.

"And would you have left your guard down or would you have watched me? Would I have had a chance of getting Gendry off of that boat?"

Ned sighed again. "I would have watched you, I would have stopped you."

Arya nodded. "Then you have your answers."

Ned sat solemnly for a while then he patted the chair beside him. "I'm listening now." He said quietly.

Arya took the offered seat and slowly began to talk. She didn't lie, but she choose her truths carefully and left a lot out. Even so he didn't seem too convinced when it came to the Night King. She didn't tell him that Bran needed to go North, or mention the children of the forest, she didn't mention the faceless men or her revenge on the Frey's, she didn't mention her weirwood visons or Ros. She tried to focus on what she needed him to understand. Daenerys _was_ coming with dragons, the Night King _was_ real and the Wall _was_ going to fall this winter. And they needed Dragonglass.

~~/~~

Part 22:

Robb had woken up earlier than Theon, which wasn't surprising, Theon was lazy and could lounge in bed all day if left to his own devices. Arya, Shireen, Ned and Robb were sitting talking quietly when Theon finally emerged from his room looking for food. Greywolf was curled up on the lounger between Robb and Shireen.

Theon picked some of the cosiest cold cuts, some cheese and some thick crusty bread from the food laid out on the table and made his way to join them. "Well they're certainly treating you well." He muttered around a mouthful of food as he gestured towards the food and drink that had been laid out.

Arya shrugged and poured Shireen and herself another glass of the sweetened fruit tea that Shireen liked so much. In truth it was too sweet for Arya's tastes so she only half filled her glass then topped it up the rest of the way with water. She passed the glass to Shireen and the young princess turned her head as she accepted it, allowing Theon to get a glimpse of the scarred side of her face. Theon froze and his plate fell to the floor, shattering on impact. His reaction caused Shireen to falter and the glassed slipped from her hand, breaking and covering her dress in the drink.

"Are you all insane!" Theon yelled, backing away. "She has Greyscale!"

"Don't be ignorant." Arya snapped as she tried to help a flustered Shireen pick up the broken glass. "She _had_ Greyscale, she's cured."

Theon continued to back away and shook his head, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Right, you believe that?! How can you sit there with that _monster_?! She's hideous! What if she infects you?"

"Theon, Shireen can't infect anybody, she's cured." Ned said calmly. "Now get over here and apologise."

"No way, I'm out of here." Theon muttered and moved quickly for the door, as it slammed shut behind him Shireen burst into tears.

"Shireen, I'm so sorry…" Ned said quietly.

"It's okay." Shireen hiccupped through her tears.

"No it's not." Arya replied as she picked up the last of the glass and put it on the table, she wrapped her arms around Shireen in a hug.

"I'll get tea on you." Shireen muttered.

"I don't care." Arya replied and hugged her closer.

Robb got up, picked up the mess that Theon had left and found a cloth so Shireen could clean herself up a bit. He paused and frowned, then started heading for the door. "I'll find someone to help clean this mess up." He muttered.

Shireen shook her head and pushed herself to her feet. "Leave it, I'll send someone up on my way down, I need to go change my dress."

"Shireen, you don't have to go." Arya said sadly.

"It's okay, I'm okay." Shireen replied and quickly exited the room.

Arya sighed and sat down sadly. "She's going to lock herself away in that damn tower now." She muttered. "I guarantee she won't be out for days."

"She's a sad, lonely girl." Ned Stark agreed. "She thinks the world of you though, and of Gendry, be patient with her."

Two servants came and went and then about twenty minutes later Gendry came by. Arya noticed the small bag in his hand and recognised it as the bag with the items he was still yet to show her from under the Red Keep. The bag looked smaller, as if he had taken something out, but she was too curious about what he had chosen to show her to aske him what he had left behind. Ned rose slowly to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane, and bowed, greeting Gendry formally. "Your grace."

Gendry looked embarrassed. "Please don't stand on my behalf, Lord Stark, and please, you never need address me with a title."

Ned shook his head. "You are the Prince of Dragonstone, and King Renly's named heir until such time as an heir apparent is born." Ned argued.

Gendry nodded. "And yet two weeks ago I was just a bastard, tell me, who do you think these sudden new title serve better, me or Renly?"

Ned allowed himself a small sad smile. "So you are aware that you are being used."

Gendry nodded. "Yes," He hesitated, looking uncertain. "But people are reliant on me regardless of why it is me that they are reliant upon, and I want to do my best by them… I wasn't taught how to do this though, I can barely even read." Gendry looked down, embarrassed. "I know I have no right to ask, but I am in great need of some advice."

Ned nodded solemnly. "Lord Arryn taught me that it takes great wisdom to know when to ask for help, and whom to ask it from, I will help you if I can." He paused and cast a glance towards Arya and Robb. "Arya, perhaps you could show Robb the training yard?"

Arya nodded. "Yes, Father, that's a good idea." She agreed. She turned to leave but Gendry's next comment caused her to pause.

"Before they go there is something that I would like to show all three of you. Something that I have been wanting to show Arya for some time. It was only a caution from Tabho Mott which prevented me from showing it to her sooner."

He reached into the bag and slowly pulled out a crown. This was no golden abomination like the crowns that Arya had previously seen, this was a real crown, for a real King. It was made of true metals, hammered bronze, black iron, incised with the runes of the First Men. It was an open crown, a circlet of bronze… nine black iron spikes wrought in the shape of longswords… this was the crown of Winter!

There was power too, she could feel it… she felt almost in a trance… it didn't belong to Gendry, a Stark should have it… she could have it… she took a step forward, Robb also started to move beside her, he was the heir to Winterfell, but Arya suddenly found herself not wanting him to have it. She could do so much more with it… so much… Grey Wind snarled… Gendry suddenly pushed the crown into Ned Stark's hands and as her father's hands curled around it, claiming it, the compulsion suddenly faded.

Arya suddenly realised that her heart was beating loudly and she was short of breath, she turned her gaze to Robb and realised that his cheeks were flushed. "Training yard?" She asked.

Robb nodded, not meeting her gaze. "Training yard." He agreed.

It wasn't until they got down to ground level that Arya realised that her father hadn't come alone. There were Umber's and Karlstarks, Glover's and Bolton's and Mormont's just to name a few. It was nowhere near the full army, but Arya quickly realised that her Father had been prepared to fight for her if he had to. Arya knew many of the faces from Harvest Feasts and name days passed, but it seemed like memories from a different life.

She froze when Greatjon Umber scooped her up in his arms and for a moment had to resist the urge to defend herself before sinking into the familiarity of it. "Put me down," She muttered with a laugh. "I'm not a little girl anymore."

"Yes you are." He muttered with a rumbling laugh, but he did put her down again. "Let me look at you… that's a funny little dress."

Arya pulled a face. "It's not a dress." She replied with a mock pout.

"Sure it is." He laughed.

"Well then I guess I better dance in it." She replied cheekily. She picked up two tournament swords and handed one hilt first to Robb. "Dance with me."

Robb hesitated for a minute. "Maybe we should use wooden ones?" He said. "I don't want to hurt you."

Ser Buckler had wandered over at the commotion and he laughed at Robb's comment. "You'll be lucky to even land a blow, son, she's good."

Robb raised an eyebrow at the comment and stepped forward. "As you wish, little sister." He said with a bow.

Arya laughed and they began to spar, Robb tried to go easy on her to start with and she disarmed him twice within the first five minutes. As they sparred the crowd grew, Robb was good, but Arya was better, after some time he finally conceded defeat. Northerner after northerner challenged her and she eventually found herself face to face with the great She-bear, Maege Mormont. Arya held her own, just, and the Greatjon finally called it a draw. Somebody offered her a water-skin and as she turned to say thank you she realised that it was her father.

"How long have you been watching." She asked.

"Long enough." He said quietly. "You've been practicing."

Arya nodded. "Spent a few months taking out bandits on the King's road." She replied.

"So Gendry said. Come, both of you, we've been summoned to lunch with King Renly."

~~/~~

Part: 23

Renly stood at the head of the painted table, Arya was standing at her usual place, to Renly's right, he liked her there because it made it easier for her to go over her maps with him but Arya understood that placing her there was also a political act, she suspected that he kept Gendry on his left for a similar reason. Ned was to Arya's right and Robb was on his other side, forcing some very proud Lords further down the table. Monford Velaryon was beside Gendry, as Master of Ships he got a place near the head of the table, Monford also had no issue with the fact that until recently Gendry had been a Waters, one of Monford's generals was his much younger half-brother Aurane Waters.

"It's a clever plan." Ned Stark complimented. "Who came up with it?"

"Look to your left." Monford suggested. "Your daughter is quite the tactician, she has spent so much time in here that I suspect she regrets being the one to suggest removing the chairs to make more room."

Arya shook her head. "Not at all, Lord Velayron, people can doze off in chairs, when they have to stand it's easier to tell if they are paying attention."

Monford raised an eyebrow at her response. "Are you sure there's no Valyrian blood in her veins?" He asked Ned.

Ned raised his eyes to meet Monford's gaze, cold grey verses seafoam green. "Very sure." He replied calmly. "And she's not leading the attack through the secret passage."

"Father! You're a better leader than that! It makes the most sense." Arya had been positive that once they had laid out the plan he would understand why she had to do this. But as her father turned to face her, a resolved expression on his face, those hopes quickly faded.

"Arya Stark." He said coldly. "You are my daughter, and you will obey me, you are not doing this."

"And what if your King commands it?" Renly asked.

Arya froze, that was perhaps the worst possible thing that he could have said, but before she could think of any comment that might salvage the situation Gendry spoke, his voice was quiet and sure in a way that Arya had never heard it before, there was a warning to his quiet tone, something unmistakably dangerous.

"You can't actually do that." The whole room fell silent. "The pact made with Torrhen Stark was never kept. If the conditions of the pact had been kept then Arya would have Valyrian blood in her veins, but no princess of House Targaryen has ever wed a prince of House Stark. For generations the Starks have kept quiet as the Targaryen's wed to Houses all over the Reach, and even Dorne. Baratheon, Velayron, Martell, Lannister, Arryn, Hightower… the list goes on, but never Stark. And Torrhen didn't kneel on northern soil. There is only one princess of House Targaryen left and I doubt that Daenerys Stormborn is going to feel inclined to help you out. And the oath that was sworn to your brother doesn't bind the North to you. You hold no claim on the North, you cannot order a Stark to do anything."

The room was deadly silent, nothing that Gendry had said could be denied, and yet if her father were to act on those words it would start another war. Arya sighed. "Gendry, are you so determined to stop me from doing this that you would knowingly start another war?"

"Yes." Gendry replied calmly.

"Okay." Arya said quietly, Gendry let out a sigh of relief and she immediately felt guilty that he had misunderstood her intent, but she needed to make her point. "Say I don't do this." She said quietly. "Say the gods are kind and by some miracle my maps are enough. Say we win with minimal losses, let's be really generous here, say only one person from the party that goes in the secret way dies… one person is far better than we expect, yes?"

Gendry looked up at her warily. "Yes." He agreed.

"How can I ever be sure that I couldn't have saved that one person? How can I ever know that some side corridor I've forgotten to draw wouldn't have made the difference? How can that death not haunt me? I'd start by fixating on that one death, that one name. Who were they? Did they have a family? Friends? What did they look like? What did they love? Who could they have become? But as that death haunted me my fixation would grow. How many men on the boats died because having to read maps slowed them down? How many at the gates? How many innocents died because the surrender took too long? How many women could I have prevented from being raped if I had been there to help this end sooner? How many of the enemy died because the fighting lasted too long…"

"Arya…" Ned whispered.

"How can I ever know for sure Father, I know you think you're protecting me, but you're not, the price is too high, I can't accept it. Death would be better than what forcing me not to do this will do to me." She could feel the tears in her eyes. "Our ways are the old ways, the one that passes judgment should swing the sword."

"Are you passing judgement?" Ned asked quietly.

"Yes." Arya replied.

"On who?"

"On Cersei and Jamie Lannister, for betrayal to the Realm, conspiracy in the murder of Jon Arryn and the attempted murder of Bran, and conspiracy to regicide. On Joffrey, for cowardice and cruelty, and for being a liar."

"I see, what about Myrcella and Tommen?"

"Innocents who need to be protected from the overzealous." Arya replied. "I will not stand back and watch a repeat of what happened to Elia and her children."

"Gods, you are my daughter." Ned whispered. "How can I forbid you from doing this now?"

Gendry was standing with both hands planted on the table, he lowered his head, a single tear running down his cheek. "Please don't do this." He whispered.

Arya moved past Renly and around to the other side of the table, she placed a hand on Gendry's arm but he wouldn't look up. "Gendry, look at me." She pleaded. Slowly he turned towards her, but he still wouldn't meet her gaze. She brushed away the tear on his cheek. "Gendry, what are you so afraid of, do you think I can't do this?"

Slowly he met her gaze. "No, I know you can do this." He whispered. "But I don't see you getting out alive."

She gave him a sad smile. "Maybe I will die, and maybe that's okay?"

More tear spilled down his cheeks. "No, it's not okay, you're the one person that believed in me, even when I didn't, I'm afraid to lose you."

"Fear cuts deeper than a sword." Arya whispered and brushed away some of his tears. "The man who fears losing has already lost."

She brushed away some more tears and he caught her hand in his. "How can you be only twelve?" He whispered. "Most twelve year olds don't think like you do."

"Most twelve year olds are stupid." Arya replied. "Gendry, please understand why I have to do this."

He let go of her hand and she pulled it away. "I do understand, but that only makes it harder." He replied. "I wish I could go in your place."

Ned cleared his throat. "Perhaps you can do me one favour, Gendry, my daughter may be too stubborn to allow me to protect her, but perhaps Robb could stay here until after the battle?"

"Father, no." Robb started to object.

"You are my heir, and I'm fairly certain that I ordered you to stay at Winterfell, but since you disobeyed that, you can stay here with Gendry. If what Arya has told me of the coming winter is true then, should we fail, it may come down to the two of you to ensure the Wall has the resources that it needs."

"I think that's a brilliant idea." Renly agreed.

Arya turned towards the table, moving into the space between Renly and Gendry, and the meeting continued. They planned late into the night, Ned committed his forces to aid in the land attack and it was agreed that he would sail the next day to gather his full strength, Monford pledged boats to help bring the army down quicker and surprise Tywin's forces, they would come into the Bay of Crabs landing east of Maidenpool. Renly still had a force near Storm's End, awaiting the command to march North. By attacking from the north and the south on land and the east by water only the west would be exposed, meaning that the Lannister army could only take one route. The sun had long set by the time that the meeting had ended and Arya was able to stumble into bed.

~~/~~

Part 24:

Arya slept unusually late and awoke to the sound of her father and Theon arguing. She moved quietly to the door and opened it a crack to make it easier to listen.

"I am not staying here on this blasted island!" Theon yelled. "Let me come with you, let me fight beside you, I can do this!"

"Theon, you are staying here with Robb, I've made my decision and that's final." Ned said in a firm voice.

"No." Theon replied. "I've been your ward since I was eight years old, I have obeyed, I never tried to run away, but I'm still not good enough for you, am I? I'm sorry you got stuck with me, but either let me prove my worth or let me go!"

"Theon, you have never had to prove anything to me." Ned replied in a gentle voice.

"Maybe I should just go, go back to the Iron Islands and my real family? Will you allow that?"

Ned sighed. "Theon, I am trying to keep you safe, if it is your need to go back to the Iron Islands then go… but you may not like what you find there."

"And what is that s'posed to mean?!" Theon demanded.

"Your father is a cruel man and a coward… do you remember the day I took you?"

"Yes." Theon replied quietly.

"Robert Baratheon was about to kill you," Ned said quietly. "His hammer was already raised by the time I got to the room."

"I remember." Theon muttered quietly.

"I stopped him, I suggested that I take you as my ward, do you remember? As I was convincing Robert not to kill you I walked across the room and put myself between you and the hammer and I claimed you for my own."

"What's your point?"

"Your father was in that room, what did he do?" Ned asked patiently.

"Nothing." Theon replied after a short silence.

"If you had been my son I would have thrown myself between you and that hammer and begged Robert to spare you, but your father just stood there, when I suggested the terms of peace he didn't even try and negotiate, he didn't ask for visiting rights, or for you to come home for a couple of months each year. You will always have a home at Winterfell, I could not love you more if you were my blood. He didn't even send raven's on your name days. So if you need to go back to the Iron Islands, go, but do not expect a warm welcome."

There was a long silence then Theon spoke. "You say you love me like a son, yet I am not you heir, I have nothing to inherit from you, let me earn my place. Let me fight beside you. I'm a man, not a boy, let me stand beside you on the battlefield."

Ned seemed to contemplate his words for a while before responding. "Is this what you really need?"

"Yes." Theon replied.

"Gods, why are all my children so stubborn?" Ned muttered.

"Is that a yes?" Theon asked cautiously.

Ned sighed. "Yes, that's a yes, now hurry up and get your things together."

Arya moved away from the door and quickly put on her armour, she had never been told the details of exactly how Theon had become a ward of House Stark, hearing it now she almost felt sorry for Theon, almost. Her father hadn't claimed him to stop a war, he had claimed him to save a scared little boy's life.

~~/~~

The goodbyes were longer and harder than Arya had expected, she wasn't just saying goodbye to her father but to many northern Lords. There were hugs from the Greatjon and kind words from the She-bear, a comment from Roose Bolton which could have been taken as a complement or an insult… she watched as Theon and Robb said their goodbyes, the conversation between Theon and her father from earlier in the day playing through her head.

Robb and Theon clasped hand to forearm, each placing a hand on the other's shoulder. "Take care, Greyjoy." Robb said.

"And you, Stark." Theon replied.

"You are my brother, now and always." Robb said, repeating the pact that the two had been making since they were boys.

"Now and always." Theon agreed. They pulled each other into a brief hug.

"Stay safe." Robb said as Theon pulled back.

Theon laughed that dark laugh of his. "Don't worry about me, Robb, you're the one stuck with the greyscale princess and the bastard prince."

Arya turned to react to the comment but her father caught her arm and pulled her into a hug. "Let it go." He whispered. He kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. "I am so very proud of you, I hope you know that."

Arya gave him another hug, squeezing him tightly. "Don't trust Bolton." She whispered.

"I never have." Her father replied. He turned to Robb and pulled him into a hug. "Help Gendry, he'll be a good Lord, he just needs to believe in himself."

Robb nodded. "I'll see you soon."

Ned paused, seeming to hesitate, then he squared his shoulders and looked Robb in the eye. "You did the right thing when you got the message from Littlefinger, I am very proud of you… there is something we need to talk about when this is done, but know that I love you." He pressed their foreheads together. "I love you and Jon equally and I am so proud of both of you. If I don't live through this you need to make sure he knows that, Howland Reed knows his mother's name."

"Father…" Robb whispered as he pulled back

"Robb, I need you to listen, I made Jon a promise that when I saw him next I would tell him about his mother, if I don't make it through this you need to keep that promise."

"You'll make it through this." Robb replied.

Ned shook his head. "Promise me, Robb, promise me."

Robb nodded solemnly. "I promise."

Ned nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer, and turned to board the rowboat that would take them to the ship. Arya and Robb stood with the three guards that Robb had chosen to stay with him and saw them off. There were other people on the beach as well, Monford Velaryon among them and as the crowd dispersed he approached.

"Yellow Lady, may I speak with you?" He asked.

Arya smiled. "Lord of the Tides, I always welcome your council." She replied, equalling his level of formality.

Monford smiled. "Would you walk with me a while?" Arya nodded, they walked along the beach for a while in silence. When they were out of sight of everybody Monford turned to face her. "I have something for you, a gift of sorts." He said quietly as he turned to face her.

"A gift?" Arya asked in surprise.

Monford studied her for a moment. "Not a gift exactly." He said carefully. "A trinket, it's more of a superstition really, a charm to keep you safe when you are at sea." He held out a small bracelet comprised of blue and green carved glass beads.

"A protection?" Arya asked. Monford nodded. "I'm honoured." She replied taking the bracelet carefully. She held it up to the light and realised that symbols were carved into each of the beads.

"If you accept this gift it comes with rules." Monford said quietly. Arya nodded. "It must be put on you a special way, and you must never take it off, if it does come off you must never try and put it back on again, do you understand?"

Arya nodded solemnly. "Is this something specific to House Velayron?" She asked.

He nodded, a slight smile crossing his thin lips. He lifted the edge of his sleeve to reveal a similar charm. "You could say that." He replied quietly.

Arya nodded and passed the bracelet back to Monford. "What needs to be done?"

"Take off your boots," He instructed. "We need to be standing in the water."

Arya did as he instructed, she remove her boots and pushed up her trouser legs, he did the same, he took her right hand and led her into the water until the waves were lapping halfway up her calf. He rolled her hand over so that her palm was facing upwards and pushed up her sleeve, running his thumb over her exposed wrist. Arya felt suddenly vulnerable. He held her right hand in his left hand and took the bracelet into his right hand, he scooped the bracelet through the water and then placed it around her wrist. Arya held her hand still as he tied the string in a complicated knot with nimble fingers. Once it was done he scooped up a handful of water and poured it across her wrist. They stood for a moment in silence then he led her back to shore.

Arya felt a calm settle over her as she stepped out of the water, no words had been spoken and she was loath to break the silence. She put her boots back on, not even bothering to shake off the excess water, and turned to Monford, she bowed to him and he bowed in return. She turned and quietly made her way back up the beach.

"What was that about?" Robb asked when she caught up with him.

Arya didn't feel ready to talk yet so she simply shrugged, Robb let it go and they walked back up to the Keep in silence.

~~/~~

Part 25:

The hardest part now was waiting for the land troops to get into position, the war councils became less frequent as more attention was required on organising the troops. Arya wanted to choose her own team for the mission through the secret passageway but every Lord believed that they had the best men for the job.

Arya explained that because of the low survival expectations of her part of the mission she would only take men who were illegitimate, childless, homeless, unwed, or young sons. This lead to Robb dubbing the mission the 'Cregan Strike' a code name which was much easier to say than 'The mission through the secret passage'. Eventually Arya agreed to watch every person that was suggested train, as they weren't disclosing this part of the plan to most people the best guise for this was a tournament, well 2 tournaments actually.

Renly announced the tournament with his usual flamboyance and every knight, noble or named man wanted to be a part of it. In a previously planned and choreographed move, Arya then asked permission to have a lesser tournament for the regular soldiers and Renly made a show of expressing what a good idea that was. Arya asked to borrow Ser Brienne to help judge, an action which seemed to make Ser Loras very happy, Brienne showed no emotion as Renly agreed.

After court Arya pulled Brienne aside to Aegon's garden and explained the true intent. She spent over an hour explaining the Cregan Strike and what she was looking for in the team. She detailed the importance of stealth, agility, quick thinking, anything that would give them an edge. Anything that was unique. Galan Storm was an obvious first choice, for being left handed and illegitimate, he was also unwed. Brienne seemed far happier after their conversation and immediately suggested a couple of archers that Arya should take a look at, a Rivers and a Storm.

To everybody's surprise Aurane Waters, the Bastard of Driftmark, asked to compete in the lesser tournament even though being acknowledged gave him the right to compete in the greater one, and Arya could only suspect that he knew the true intent. Aurane was a startling man to look at, lean and handsome with the silver-gold hair and grey-green eyes typical of his house. He had a cleft in his chin which was noticeable even through his neatly trimmed beard. Arya found that there was something in his fine features and high cheekbones that reminded her of Jon, even though his face was narrower. They had the same prettiness… the thought disturbed her but she found herself watching Aurane more and more.

There was a gracefulness to Aurane's movements, he walked with the sway of somebody as confidant at sea as he was on land, and that sway was an advantage. He wasn't a water-dancer, but his style was unique, and by the second day Arya found herself talking with Monford about if he should be included in the Cregan Strike. Monford approved.

At the end of the tournament Arya advised the war council of twenty-three men that she was interested in and it was whittled down to twelve. Three archers, two scouts and seven fighters with very unique skillsets. It was quite interesting to Arya that many of the things she valued in the men she chose were seen as weaknesses by their Lords. It was only the archers that she had to argue for.

Of the twelve men only Aurane could be deemed to fit the description of a knight, but Arya wasn't after knights, most of the men had never been given a decent chance to prove themselves. They were aged between sixteen and twenty-four, all were lean of build and quick mind.

They were not given the details of the plan, the need for secrecy was paramount so they would be briefed on the boat. They were told that they would be working together, and Arya spent much of her time training with them and learning how they thought, she stayed with them from breakfast to supper, unless called to court or a council, only catching up with Robb in the evenings.

Robb also seemed well occupied, at Arya's request he made the effort to break fast with Shireen every morning, going to her instead of having her come to him, and Gendry soon started to join them. He would spend much of the day with Gendry and Ser Davos going through inventories and the other day to day needs of running a Keep, exploring the castle, and getting to know the staff. There was so much that Gendry needed to learn, and quickly, but with Robb at his side he seemed less overwhelmed.

Robb even suggested that Gendry implement one of Father's rituals, that of having a different servant sit with him every evening and discuss the matters that concerned them. Apparently Margery found the whole thing distasteful so Gendry no longer dined with Margery and Renly, instead dining with Shireen, Davos and Robb, the seat to his left given to a different servant each night. Shireen seemed to know some of the servants well which also helped.

Shireen still hid in her tower far too much, but she clearly missed Arya's company and she started to venture out with a book in hand to sit and watch Arya train now and again. To Arya's relief every one of the people she had chosen treated Shireen kindly and it reinforced Arya's belief that she had made good choices.

Aurane became Arya's second by matter of default, having been acknowledged and raised by his father he had the advantages of a decent education and being trained by a Master at Arms. He roomed in his brother's apartment, on the floor above Arya, so they would walk down together every morning and up again every evening, often discussing the strengths and weaknesses of the group as they went. Two days before they were to be sent in to Kings Landing Arya, Robb, Monford, and Aurane sat talking over the finer details of the plan until late into the night.

~~/~~

Renly's fleet entered Blackwater bay, the ships were surrounded by water wyvern's diving through the water with flippers like wings, the diamond shapes at the ends of their tails flicking up into the air as they dived downwards, their dragon-like heads were the first part to come up as they broke the surface, and their long, lizard-like bodies twisted like snakes in-between. Arya found herself enraptured by their twisting shapes and she stood by the rail of the boat watching them.

They ranged in colour from lightest blue to darkest green and all the colours in-between, from yellows like golden sand to deepest brown, even black. She reached her right hand over the rail and a wyvern leapt up to brush against it, the action gentle, Arya knew that the wyverns would never hurt her. Another leapt up, and then another, each one wanting to touch her before dropping safely back to the water. One splashed her in the face and she wiped the water away from her eyes.

She looked up and saw a single ship in the middle of the bay, there appeared to be no crew, but lions roamed it's decks, even from this distance Arya could see the blood on their mouths and paws. No, this was wrong, this was all wrong! There was a trail of small, funny looking dragons spilling out of the back of the boat, the dragons all had clay pots for bellies, the pots were white, each with a green dragon symbol in the middle. They seemed to have to flap their little wings very quickly to stay above the water as the pots that took the place of the main part of their bodies weighed them down. The dragons started fighting and smashing each other's pots open, their little green heads bobbing up and down and their little green tails wiggling and lashing out at each other. Bright green liquid leaked out of the pots and floated on top of the water. The green liquid and the broken bits of the pot dragons starting surrounding their ships, suddenly one of the dragons breathed a small puff of flame and Blackwater bay ignited in an explosion of green flame.

The wildfire engulfed the ships. The wyverns started twisting and screaming in pain, they dived downwards but the chemical fire continued to burn them even under water, the people on the boats were screaming now, some dove into the water but it didn't save them, the water was boiling around them and the wildfire consumed them all… the lions remained unharmed.

~~/~~

"Arya, wake up, wake up!" Robb yelled, shaking her shoulders.

Arya blinked in confusion and her room at Dragonstone slowly came into view, her throat was sore from screaming. "Robb?"

"What happened?" Robb asked with concern. He was sitting on the side of her bed in just a pair of trousers, his hair tousled from sleep.

"Wildfire." Arya whispered. "They're going to use wildfire."

Suddenly there was the sound of raised voices from the other room, Monford and Aurane among them. Arya pushed herself out of bed, the oversized shirt she had been sleeping in falling to her knees and moved towards the sound of the commotion. Monford and Aurane were both in the middle of the room, in nothing but their heavy nightshirts with drawn swords, two of their guards behind them, the three Stark guards had drawn their blades in response.

At the sight of Arya Monford lowered his blade, relieved, and Aurane followed. "We heard you screaming, Yellow Lady, what has happened?"

"Wildfire," Arya replied quietly. "They're going to use wildfire on the bay."

Monford regarded her carefully. "A vison?" He asked.

Arya nodded. Just then Lord Donnel Swann, who held the floor below, burst in fully armoured with three guards behind him. Monford turned to him and slowly looked him up and down, the younger man was puffing heavily from running up the stairs.

"You took you time," Monford noted quietly. "Had there been any real danger you would have arrived too late."

Lord Donnel Swann was the heir to Stonehelm, his House was known to be proud, powerful and cautious. They were also considered the second most powerful house in the Stormlands, after the Baratheons. Donnel was of a similar age to Aurane but broader and stronger. He made a point of looking both Monford and Aurane up and down before responding.

"I am sure that your night dresses scared away possible concerns, but be assured that my men held the stairs."

"Held them, but did not venture up them." Monford observed.

Robb quickly placed himself between the two men. "Enough, enough! We are all on the same side. Arya has had a vision and believes that the Lannister's are going to be employing wildfire as part of their defence. I am most grateful that you both rushed to my sister's aid, now, I am going to get dressed and take this conversation upstairs where the maps are, you are both welcome to join me, or to return to your beds." He turned to one of the guards. "Go alert Prince Gendry of the situation."

"We should be alerting King Renly." Donnel snapped.

Robb turned on Donnel slowly. "We are the guests of the Prince of Dragonstone." He said deliberately. "The Prince of Dragonstone will decide if this matter warrants waking the King from his sleep or not. He, and he alone, has the right. Prince Gendry is King Renly's named heir and you _will_ treat him with due respect. Do you understand me, Lord Swann?"

"Yes, Lord Stark." Donnel replied coldly.

"Good." Robb replied calmly. "We will see you upstairs in fifteen minutes."

~~/~~

Many of the Lords were not impressed to be summoned to the room of the painted table in the dead of night, but none were less impressed than Renly. After two hours of arguing over Arya's dream and its meaning, it was agreed that they needed to take precautions against the possibility that it was true, that meant that all plans of sneaking into Blackwater bay and taking the enemy by surprise went out the window. Lord Velayron liked the bolder new plan as did Aurane, as Arya's second he had been reluctantly allowed into the meeting.

But the new plan meant that the Cregan Strike had to already be in place under the Keep before the fleet entered the bay. That meant they had to be smuggled in today, which was where Davos came in. The modified plan was finalised and the meeting wound down just as the sun was rising. On impulse Arya walked away from the table to the arches to watch the dawn. The play of the sun on the water was enticingly beautiful and she stood in silence until the last traces of oranges and reds had faded from the sky. She looked back into the room to find that it was mostly empty with just Renly, Gendry, Davos, Robb, Monford and Aurane remaining, all were watching her. She felt suddenly self-conscious.

"I know I should have asked permission before walking away from the table, your grace, it's just I may never get a chance to watch a sunrise here again and it's so beautiful."

"I understand, I'm sure you will get another chance." Renly replied confidently.

Davos gave her a gentle smile. "Stannis hated this place." He said quietly. "He said it was dark and cold and dreary."

"Then Stannis was looking with the wrong eyes." Arya replied quietly. "I've heard the same things said about Winterfell."

Davos laughed. "Indeed he was." He walked over to join her. "It is quite a view, don't you agree, Gendry?"

"Well I was enjoying it until you walked into it." Gendry replied teasing.

The comment only caused Davos to laugh harder. "I'll get out of your view, my prince." He said cheekily, he gave Arya a wink then walked back to the table.

Aurane made a point of expressing a sigh of relief as Davos walked away from the arches. "Gendry's right, that's much better, although I'm not sure what's more beautiful, the view, or the warrior princess being framed by it."

Arya raised an eyebrow at the comment and started walking towards Aurane. "You, Aurane Waters, are a flirt." She declared, she had started to become quite accustomed to his gentle teasing nature over the last week.

Aurane smirked. "And you, Lady Arya, are a prude." He replied. "Shall we go break our fast with the others and let them know that we are moving out today?"

Arya nodded and Aurane offered her his arm, she accepted it and let him start leading her out of the room.

"Actually, I was hoping to have a word with Lady Arya in private." Gendry said quietly.

"Of course." Arya agreed and immediately dropped Aurane's arm. He gave her a bow and started making his way towards the food halls.

Gendry walked over to her and offered her his arm, which she took, and led her down the stairs in silence. If Arya hadn't known any better she might had thought that he was jealous of Aurane's teasing.

~~/~~


	6. Chapters 26 - 30

Part 26:

The walk down the stairs was quiet and awkward, Gendry seemed uncomfortable, or nervous, and that made Arya uncomfortable, but he didn't drop her arm and she didn't pull her arm away. Gendry lead her into a part of the Keep that she had never been to before and she noticed a distinct change in architecture.

All of Dragonstone had Dragons, Wyverns, and Gargoyles of various descriptions worked into them, from the brackets that held the touches and lamps to the shapes of the structures themselves, but here it was more ornate. Suddenly the dragons that held the touches and lamps had rubies for eyes, armoured dragons guarded the doors with guided wings, studded with exotic gems such as opal, laphrodite, and some stones that Arya could not name. Sometimes entire dragons were carved out of the precious stones. Other dragons were armoured in what she had first took to be blown glass, or crystal, the armour covered in scales.

It was only the second time in Arya's short life that she had seen opal or jade, the first time had been during their first week at Kings Landing when Septa had forced her to wear her grey velvet and attend court, before she had started her water dancing. A merchant, a silk trader from Qarth, had been there, two beautiful women at his side.

The women were exotic and strange, one was tall and curvaceous, she had skin smooth and dark as molasses, and eyes shaped like almonds, so dark that you could drown in them, her head was shaved. She had been adorned in opal and silk. The other was almost her opposite, exceptionally petite and lean of build with long ink-black hair and squinty hazel eyes, her skin was pale as porcelain and her face was pointy. She had been adorned in jade and silk.

Sansa had gone on about them for days, romanticising that they must be his lovers. But the necklaces had looked like collars to Arya, for all their precious gems, and she suspected the women were slaves.

Arya had been dismissive then, but as she looked now she couldn't deny how the exotic stones seemed to contain the light. Not only were there creamy opals, flecked with subtle colours, but there were entire dragons carved of black opal, exploding with light… red fire opals that seemed to contain the glory of a sunset, and so much more. One particular dragon caught Arya's attention and she pulled away from Gendry to look at its scaled armour more carefully, running a finger over the stony surface.

"It looks like the shell of an egg." She muttered, more to herself than to Gendry.

"It is, it's part of a dragon's egg." Gendry answered.

She looked at him in wonder. "Where are we?"

"The Royal quarters." Gendry replied. "The _Targaryen_ Royal quarters. Davos says Stannis wouldn't step foot here, but Renly insisted I claim one of the rooms. I feel like an intruder," Gendry squared his shoulders. "But I might find something here that can help… for winter. The good thing is Stannis had it closed off, so it was never looted."

Arya nodded, a particular room seemed to call out to her and she reached for the handle, carved out of black dragon-bone, and pushed open the door. She distantly heard Gendry call out "Stop!" but the warning came too late.

The room had the feel of death, which was odd considering that the first thing that Arya noticed was a baby's crib, the blankets in disarray as if the babe had been snatched up in a hurry. The entire room was in disarray, with tumbled chairs and scattered belongings, as if people had left in a hurry. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust from the tumbled chairs to the discarded toy dragon. The window was broken, blown in as if by a storm. _Daenerys Stormborn._ The words came to her unbidden. Slowly, almost reluctantly, her gaze moved to the bed and the remains that lay within. _Rhaella Targaryen._

"Stannis just left her here?" Arya whispered. Gendry nodded and Arya shook her head in disbelief. "I know they were at war, but she was his father's cousin." She felt suddenly angry for the poor woman who's empty shell lay in the bed. A woman who had been forced into a loveless marriage to her own brother, and who, by all accounts, had suffered as dearly as many for his madness.

"Once the war is over I plan to talk to the High Septon about how best to put her to rest." Gendry said quietly. "Let her sleep in peace for now, I'll find a way to fix this." He tugged at her arm and started leading her from the room.

Arya wanted to tell him that it didn't matter, that death was nothing, the dead don't care. But as she thought of the Crypts of Winterfell, with their stone Kings holding iron swords across their laps and denying guest right… of the armies of the dead who didn't care that guest right was denied… she started to wonder if that was really true. She paused at the door and turned back to face the bed.

"I'm sorry, Rhaella, if father had known he would have done something." She left the room and closed the door gently behind her.

"He knows now." Gendry said quietly. "Ha came and paid his respects after I told him, the High Septon was his idea."

"What did Renly say?" Arya asked.

"Renly doesn't care, he said I should just have her tossed into the sea." Gendry replied grimly, he shook his head. "That wasn't what I wanted to show you."

Arya nodded. Gendry placed a gentle hand on the small of her back and led her further down the corridor to another room. The room was ornate and filled with wondrous items, some of which Gendry had pushed aside to make some space for himself. His bag was at the side of a recliner and there was a blanket neatly folded over it, two doors led off of the main room and Arya was sure that one would be an office and the other a bedroom, but it looked as if Gendry had been sleeping on the recliner. Then again, looking at Gendry, it didn't look as if he had been doing much sleeping lately.

He gestured for her to sit and made his way towards the bag. "I promised to show you the other items I took from that room under the Red Keep." He said quietly. "But there never seemed to be a good time." He knelt by the bag and carefully pulled out an item, placing it in her hands.

Arya had to blink a few times, her mind seemingly not to be able to comprehend what she was holding at first. It was a large egg, so big that she had to hold it in both hands, it looked like it was made of Valyrian steel, but it was warm to the touch, almost hot. She turned it, following the patterns of silver, grey, black, white and midnight blue as they danced in the light. It was heavier than she had expected, as if made out of stone. She placed it carefully on her lap and traced her fingers along the tiny scales that covered the surface of the shell.

"You found a dragon egg." She said reverently.

Gendry drew the right corner of his lower lip into his mouth nervously. "Actually, I found two."

She raised an eyebrow at the comment. "It's heavy, I understand why you only took one."

Gendry shook his head. "No, I took both of them, I planned to give the other one to you, but…"

Arya raised an eyebrow. "But?"

"After I talked to your father I went looking for Shireen, I found her locked in her room crying, she told me about what had happened with Theon. Both her parents are dead, Davos wasn't here, she already felt scared and alone… I wanted her to trust me, so I decided to show her the eggs. The way her face lit up when she held the other egg and pressed it to her cheek…"

"You gave it to her." Arya said gently.

"I felt guilty that I hadn't shown it to you first, but it meant so much to her, she's been busting to show you, but you've been so busy."

Arya smiled. "You're going to protect her, aren't you?"

"I know what it's like to feel like you're alone and nobody cares." Gendry said quietly.

Arya carefully passed the egg back to him. "You are a good person, Gendry, I'm glad you gave it to her."

Gendry blushed at the complement, suddenly that spark of mischief returned to his eyes. "Come have breakfast with us, it would mean a lot to Shireen."

~~/~~

Robb, Grey Wind and Davos were already there when Gendry and Arya arrived and food was already on the table. Shireen took one look at Arya and her face lit up in happiness, she rushed at Arya and gave her a hug.

"I wasn't sure I would see you again before you went."

Arya pulled back and smiled at her. "You really think I wouldn't have said goodbye?" Shireen was already pulling her towards the table, she simply shrugged.

Gendry cleared his throat. "Shireen, don't you have something to show Arya before you sit down?"

Shireen stopped and turned to Gendry. "I can show her?" Gendry nodded. Shireen started tugging on Arya's arm harder, pulling her past the table and deeper into the room. She was clearly excited. "Mine was different to Gendry's, it was smaller… it broke, but it's still beautiful."

Before Arya could respond bits of broken dragon egg shell were being pressed into her hands. The shell was thick. Whereas Gendry's egg had looked metallic, this one was pale and opaque, a creamy white flecked with palest blues, and softest pinks, lightest purples… it looked like the finest of pale opals.

"It is very beautiful." She agreed as she traced the small scales on part of the shell. "Maybe Gendry could make something out of it?"

"I plan to." Gendry replied from across the room. "But I want to find Tobho Mott and talk to him about it first."

Arya nodded, she continued looking through the pieces of shell for a while, holding them up to the light and watching the play of colours, slowly she realised that it didn't quite add up. There was enough to make a shell, but where was the rest of it? "What was inside?" She finally asked.

Shireen's smile grew broader and she led Arya across to a small crate by the window covered with a blanket. Shireen paused in front of the crate and suddenly looked nervous. "The egg didn't exactly break… it hatched."

Before Arya could respond Shireen had lifted up the blanket and Arya found herself looking at a tiny opalescent dragon with wings like tinted milk-glass. Shireen opened the cage, which Arya had thought to be a crate, and the dragon hoped onto her hand like a bird, it ran up her arm to nestle into her shoulder. Shireen hugged the dragon for a bit before lifting it up with her hands and holding it up to Arya.

"Opal, this is Arya, she's our friend." Shireen said gently and placed the dragon on Arya's shoulder.

Arya was in awe, the dragon let her handle it for a while, then Grey Wind came over to investigate and Opal hopped down Arya's arm to jump on his back.

"Ah, Robb..?"

"They're friends." Robb replied seemingly unconcerned. "Come eat."

Arya looked around the table. "So who else knows?"

"Just us." Gendry replied, he was still standing near the door watching her reactions. "We would have told you sooner but…"

"But I've been busy planning a war." Arya replied. "Does Father know?"

"No." Robb replied. "Just the people in this room."

Arya nodded. "Let's keep it at that for now." She felt a tugging on her leg and looked down to find that Opal was climbing up it.

"She likes you." Shireen said happily.

Arya smiled and petted the dragon. "Is it a she?"

"How do you sex a dragon?" Davos asked. "We won't know for sure unless it starts laying eggs, but Shireen thinks it's a she and that's fine."

Opal didn't seem to care about if it was a he or a she, it did seem to care about bacon though, it jumped from Arya onto the table and made it's was straight for the heaped plate of bacon, picking up as much as it could.

Robb laughed. "Gendry, you should have asked for extra bacon, between Opal and Arya there will be little for the rest of us."

~~/~~

Part 27:

Arya and her men had been in camp under the Red Keep for over a day when the bells started ringing. They abandoned their bedrolls and supplies and started making their way up as planned. By the time that they reached the gate there were no guards at the dungeons. They all had hooded cloaks to conceal their weapons and armour, and they were already inside the keep, so they slipped through the servant ways unimpeded.

Arya's plan was to head to Maegor's Holdfast, a massive square fortress inside the heart of the Red Keep, as it was the most likely place that Cersei would run to. Arya knew that the royal apartments were in Maegor's Holdfast. It was an impressive structure in its own right, the walls were said to be twelve feet thick and it was surrounded by a dry moat lined with iron spikes, they would need to get there before Cersei had the drawbridge raised.

It was a good plan, but as they were making their way along a passage that lead away from the Great Hall, that old black cat with the damaged ear found Arya… and he seemed to be trying to convince her to turn around. Arya nearly tripped over him three times before she stopped.

"Damn cat." One of the archers muttered and went to kick the animal but Arya stopped him.

"This cat is how I found the secret way in." She said quietly. "This cat helped Gendry and I not get caught when we rescued my father from the black cells." She paused and looked around at her men. "And now this cat is trying to direct me somewhere else."

"I know of this cat." Aurane Waters said quietly. "People call it Balerion. I've never known this cat to be anybody's friend."

As if to prove Aurane wrong the cat rubbed against Arya's leg. She reached down and patted it and it started to purr. She felt a smirk spread across her lips and for a moment the other self was in control. "Guess I'm no one then." She said in a voice that was too old for her.

It was a shock, the older self, the other Arya, had been quiet for so long that Arya had almost forgotten that she wasn't alone in her own head. _'You need me now.'_ The other self told her. _'Don't push me down, I'm a better killer than you, let me take control.'_

 _'No.'_ Arya argued with her older self. _'You can help, but I chose a different path, we do this my way.'_ She took a deep breath and looked at each of her men, men whose lives were in her hands. "Aurane." She said firmly. "You have the maps, you know the plan. Kill Cersei, save Tommen and Myrcella if you can, if you get a shot at Joffrey take it. I will re-join you as soon as I can."

"Let me go with you." Galan Storm said quietly. Arya nodded.

"You should take an archer too, just in case." Aurane added.

Arya nodded again, her gaze moved to the three archers. "Any volunteers?"

"I like cats." One of them muttered.

Arya turned to see who had spoken. She noticed with relief that it was not the archer who had tried to kick the cat. The man's name was Derren, he had no second name, he was short and skinny, with a pot-marked face and short, light brown, hair. He was wearing everything that he owned, there were holes in his trousers, and his boots, and he had ripped the arms off of his boiled leather armour to have better movement. His bow was a custom short bow which he had made himself.

"Just to be clear, Galan, Derren, you are prepared to follow me and risk your lives to follow a cat that may, or may not, be named Balerion?"

"No, Yellow Lady." Galan replied calmly. "We are prepared to follow you."

"It is you that is following a cat." Derren added with a smirk.

~~/~~

The cat led them for a while then it ran into a hole in the wall. Arya sighed, what had she expected? No sooner had she mentally asked the question than an image came into her mind from the cat's perspective of a young boy pressing in a brick and a narrow door opening. Had she been skin-changing the cat all along? It took her a couple of tries to find the right brick but she soon opened the door.

It was dark, but not completely pitch, the hidden corridors were designed in such a way that light seeped in here and there. Arya soon realised that the torch mountings on the other side of the wall were designed in such a way as to let the light through. They followed the cat along corridors and up stairs… there were secret doors everywhere and they were easy to see from the side of this wall. The cat led and they followed.

It was odd, now that Arya knew she was in the cat's mind she could feel it, and she wasn't alone. There was a little girl in there, frightened and angry, a little girl whom Arya instinctively knew would never grow up, a little girl whom hated Lannister's.

Arya decided to try and talk to the little girl. "Hi."

"Hello, Arya Stark." The little girl replied.

Arya couldn't tell what the girl looked like, it was a feeling, not an image. She was a little taken aback that the girl knew her name. "Have you been watching me?" Arya asked.

"Yes." The little girl replied.

Arya thought it a rather short answer but she pressed on. "Is the cat's name Balerion?" She asked.

Again the girl answered "Yes." The girl seemed sad.

"Why are you helping me?" Arya asked.

The girl was quiet for a while before she answered. "Balerion was my kitty." She said quietly. "Father went away, mother wanted to take us to Dorne, but the King wouldn't let her… and then the siege happened and the monster came… he killed my baby brother first… he took his time with my mother… and with me. I don't know how I got here, I didn't understand what was happening at first, I lost time. I found myself in the Great Hall, watching from Balerion's eyes as Tywin Lannister revealed our dead bodies to Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark."

The quiet seemed to stretch out for a while but then the little girl started talking again. "I remember how Ned Stark reacted in horror and demanded justice, how Robert Baratheon claimed that all he saw was dead dragons… I remember how your father yelled, and how the new King, bad as the old King, didn't listen… and I remember how you looked at Cersei and Joffrey when you came to the Keep… I knew then that you could help me get some justice… maybe if I get justice I can be free?"

"Rhaenys?"

"Yes." The little girl replied.

"You won't have justice unto The Mountain is dead, and I'm not sure how to do that." Arya replied.

"But you will try?" Rhaenys asked.

"Yes, I will try." Arya answered.

"Good," Rhaenys replied. "Then let's start with the new mad king."

Arya suddenly found herself in front of a door, she opened it carefully and found herself on the gallery of the Great Hall. Where she had stepped out of was a small alcove hidden from direct view. She moved to a crouch and Galan and Derren did the same. They moved slowly along the low wall of the viewing gallery and listened to what was happening in the Great Hall beneath.

Lots of people were running in different directions, some people were giving commands. "Move, move, move!" someone yelled. Everybody was running, almost everybody, Arya could hear two sets of people walking towards each other. In one group one person was walking faster than the others as if there was a height difference, possibly the imp?

In the other group one man had distinctly heavy footfalls… the Hound maybe? Joffrey could be with him. She raised her hand, signally for Galan and Derren to stop as she listened carefully. It sounded like the two groups stopped and faced each other. Arya's guesses were soon confirmed.

Tyrion spoke first. "You look very dashing, nephew, new armour?"

"I am you King, you will address me as 'your grace'." Joffrey replied.

"Yes Nephew, your grace." Tyrion replied in an almost mocking tone.

Arya heard the sound of metal scraping as the sword was drawn. "Careful, uncle, wouldn't want to get Lion's Tooth bloody before the battle begins."

Suddenly the older self was in control. Arya could only sit back and watch in her own body as the plan went out the window, she watched as her hands grabbed Derren's bow from his hand and one of his arrows. She felt herself swiftly moving to her feet, drawing the bow and firing in one action. She spoke one word on the exhaled breath as the arrow left the bow.

"Agreed."

The shot was perfect. Everyone watched in shock as the arrow flew through the air and struck Joffrey in the left eye, killing him. Suddenly there was shouting and running, the Hound was coming straight for her. She made a hasty retreat to the alcove, Galan and Derren behind her. They shut the door and held their breaths as they heard the sound of heavy feet running past their hiding place.

 _See._ The older Arya said. _I told you that you needed me. Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, The Mountain…_ Arya fought to silence the voice of the older self and to control her breathing, but the older Arya just kept repeating her list as if it was a prayer.

 _Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, The Mountain, Tywin Lannister, the Red Woman… Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, The Mountain, Tywin Lannister, the Red Woman… Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, The Mountain, Tywin Lannister, the Red Woman… Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, The Mountain, Tywin Lannister, the Red Woman… Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, The Mountain, Tywin Lannister, the Red Woman… Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, The Mountain, Tywin Lannister, the Red Woman… Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, The Mountain, Tywin Lannister, the Red Woman…_

~~/~~

Part 28:

The Great Hall had been quiet for some time yet Arya still couldn't bring herself to move, Galan and Derren seemed similarly frozen. She was crouching in the secret corridor, a few steps away from the doorway to the alcove, Balerion/Rhaenys had climbed onto her lap. Arya wasn't quite sure when she had started patting the cat but the action was calming. It was time to move, she knew it was time to move, yet she stroked the cat's fur a couple more times before nudging it off of her lap.

She quietly pushed herself to her feet, Galan and Derren did the same, she was pleased to note that they all moved with the same quiet caution. _Quite as a shadow, calm as still water… fear cuts deeper than swords_. The only question now was did they go left or right? Balerion/Rhaenys choose right, the plan was in Aurane's hands now, Arya decided to follow.

They went up some narrow stairs, half the width of the narrow corridor, and very steep, with no safety rail to stop them from falling. _A water dancer can balance on one toe for hours, a water dancer doesn't fall… fear cuts deeper than swords, the man who fears loosing has already lost._ Arya let Syrio Forel's words wash over her as she made her way up the narrow stairs, but she breathed easier once all three had made it to the top, the stairs lead to a narrow corridor that turned right into a wide corridor. They had to be going along the front curtain wall to the Great Hall by now, the wall the Iron throne had its back to, and by Arya's reckoning they had to be about halfway up the wall.

The space was surprisingly wide considering the only way to it was narrow, there were no secret doors here, yet there was enough room for an archer to draw and shoot a longbow with ease. There was also much more light here, Arya's gaze followed the light and she soon found the reason. There were little gaps in the stonework, arrowslits! She was too short for them, but Derren wasn't, they were a quarter of the way along the wall when the yelling started. Derren quickly moved into the embrasure of an arrowslit and drew his bow.

"My son!" Cersei yelled. "You did this! Tyrion, you wanted this, you planned to get him killed! Seize him! Seize him now! Throw him in the dungeons with his little whore, I'm going to make him watch while I kill her! My boy, my son."

"No! Wait!" Tyrion yelled. "I didn't do this, Cersei, I told you, it was Arya."

"The Stark girl." Cersei scoffed. "You really expect me to believe a child did this?! And alone?! You planned this! You've been hiding her, haven't you! Father should have killed you the day you were born!"

"Cersei, I swear, I had no part in this." Tyrion protested. "Please, don't kill Shae for this… I did not do this!"

"You and your little whores." Cersei spat. "Clearly father was too kind when it came to Tysha … I'll make sure this one suffers more!"

Arya felt Galan tense at the mention of the name Tysha. "Kill her," Galan hissed, "Kill her now."

Derren glanced at Arya for permission and she nodded. He let lose a single arrow and pulled away from the embrasure, not even waiting to see if he had hit his mark. There was no point, either he had made the shot or he had not. The yelling and panic below soon proved that he had made the shot however. The three of them pressed themselves against the far wall, away from the arrowslits and waited as another Lannister died and panic again descended on the Great Hall.

It was Tyrion that finally worked it out. "My gods, they're _in_ the walls! We need to get out of here now!"

"Run and die." Arya yelled. "Best you stay and discuss the terms of your surrender." She signalled for Galan and Derren to move further along the wall away from her.

There was a bitter laugh and a voice she knew well yelled a reply. "You're all alone, little girl, hiding in the wall like a rat… I crush rats… you'll have to come out eventually." The Hound yelled.

"She's not alone." Galan yelled from two thirds of the way along the wall, Arya was impressed by how far he had moved so quietly.

"And who are you?" The Hound spat. "Another fool who wants to die? Here rattie, rattie, rattie!" There were laughs and jeering from some of the other guards at his comment.

"I'm Tysha's son." Galan replied. The hall fell silent.

Arya did not recognise the voice that finally broke the silence. "Look, I don't care who your mother was, I'm a whore's son myself, I've been a sellsword for many years an' I pride myself on the ability to pick the winning side. You're not on it, Renly's in for a hell of a shock when he enters Blackwater Bay, surrender now and maybe we'll let you live."

The other self laughed and she let the sound pass over her lips. "Why? Because you're going to set the bay ablaze with wildfire? You think they're going to fall for that? The first ship into the bay will have already been abandoned and set alight, you're not burning anybody alive today." She paused and listened. Too quiet, time to move.

They continued along the wall and found another stairway up, higher and higher. Balerion/Rhaenys lead them further and further way from the Great Hall. Sometimes they crawled through tunnels, sometimes they went down, sometimes they went up, it was with great surprise that Arya suddenly found herself in the Tower of the Hand. Instinct lead her up the stairs and to what had been her father's office, she was more than a little shocked to find that the family blade, Ice, was still in the room.

She wasn't strong enough to use it as a weapon but she couldn't leave it there, she gave Galan a pleading look. "That's my father's blade, my family sword." She said quietly.

Galan nodded and awkwardly slung the sword over his shoulder. "We better get it back to him then." He said quietly.

Galan was too slim for such a sword, it would only serve to get him killed, Arya shook her head. "We hide it." She said quietly.

"Where?" Galan asked.

Arya thought for a moment. "In the dungeons." She said quietly. "And we find this Shae and set her free. Let her give Tyrion Renly's terms."

Rhaenys was reluctant to assist with that plan, but Arya managed to convince her. Shae, once found, was far easier to convince. After hiding Ice and releasing Shae, with a scroll listing Renly's demands, they went in search of the rest of the Cregan Strike.

They found Aurane and the others near Maegor's holdfast, one of the other bowmen had managed to kill Ser Ilyn Payne, and they had taken out Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Mandon Moore. Aurane was apologetic that he had failed and missed the opportunity to take out Cersei but Arya was quick to reassure him that Derren had taken her out. Arya left Aurane and five swords at Maegor's holdfast, to prevent the ladies within from being raped. She took Galan, the three archers, and the two scouts with her to start picking off the captains on the walls.

The plan had already been to do sneak attacks (copying the Dornish fighting style which had forced Aegon the Conquer to concede that he could not take Dorne) and with Balerion/Rhaenys' help they were far more effective than they could have ever hoped to be. Every time the archers ran out of arrows one of the scouts would steal more from some soldier who was too busy looking over the wall to see them coming up behind, they never took out squires or general soldiers, only those in charge. Sometimes Arya would act as a distraction before fleeing to the cover of some tunnel or another.

By the time the sun rose the next day the gates had been flung open and Tyrion had surrendered the city, Shae at his side. By lunch time Renly was crowned, Aurane was legitimised and knighted, Ice was back in Ned Stark's hands and Tywin and Jamie Lannister were outlaws. Tommen and Myrcella were denounced as Baratheon's, but instead of making them Waters' Renly had the compassion (on Arya's advice) to legitimise them as Lannister's. Tommen was made a ward of House Swann, however, as Myrcella had already been shipped to Dorne, some negotiating would be required to ensure her safety.

As Arya went to leave the Great Hall the Hound crossed her path. He stood wordlessly in front of her and she met his gaze.

"Don't my scars scare you, little girl?" He growled.

Arya felt her father, who was standing just behind her, reaching for his sword and she reached out her hand to stay his actions. "It's alright, Father." She said quietly, her gaze not moving from that of the Hound. "Why should your scars scare me, Sandor Clegane? Why should I judge you by something that was done to you?"

The Hound scoffed at that. "You're one of very few people that can look me in the eye, do you know that, girl?"

Arya nodded. "Most people are stupid." She answered.

The Hound nodded. "Yes, they are. You killed the people I was sworn to serve."

Arya nodded. "Yes, I did." She replied. "But that was not your failing, you did your job well. There is no way I could have beaten you in a fair fight, I know that, so I made sure the fight wasn't fair."

"That was still a lucky shot with that arrow." The Hound muttered.

"If you say so." Arya replied.

He studied her a while longer then took a step backwards, slowly he drew his sword, offering it to her hilt first, and dropped to his knee. "Can I serve you?" He asked gruffly.

Arya was taken aback by the action. She looked to her father for advice but his expression was unreadable. She turned back towards the Hound. "If you wish to swear to me I will accept it on two conditions, when the day comes for you to confront your brother you will not let any oath to me stand in your way… and swear your own words, not something drilled into you since you were a child."

There were still over a hundred people in the Great Hall but Arya noticed that the room had grown suddenly quiet. Slowly The Hound spoke. "I don't want to be the Hound anymore."

"Then don't be." Arya agreed.

Sandor nodded. "I, Sandor Clegane, swear to serve you as best I can, to protect you as best I can, I'll not swear to any gods, or make promises that I cannot keep, but put steel in my hand, boots on my feet, clothes on my back and food in my stomach and I will serve you well."

Arya accepted the offered blade. "I, Arya Stark of Winterfell, the Yellow Lady, swear that I will not eat if you cannot eat, will not take shelter if you are without shelter. I will listen when you tell me I am being stupid, and hear your concerns, it may not change what I was going to do but I will listen. I will not call you the Hound, nor tolerate any other to do so, nor will I ever demand that you address me with any title. I will not ask any duty of you that would bring you dishonour, nor stand in your way if your pursuit is justice. Furthermore, if you are injured or maimed in my service I will ensure that you are provided for until the end of my days."

She offered his sword back to him hilt first. He stood and took it, falling in beside her on her left as they left the Great Hall. Her father was to her right with Theon to his right and behind him. "That is my sword hand, do not block it." She muttered quietly once they were out of the hall.

Sandor Clegane nodded and dropped back a step. "I shall have to learn to walk on your right." He muttered.

It was only 2pm when a freshly scrubbed Arya sank into clean sheets, but the sun set and rose before she did, and for once the gods were kind and her sleep was dreamless. When she awoke Balerion/Rhaenys was curled up on the pillow beside her, though gods only knew how the cat had made its way in.

~~/~~

Part 29:

Gods Arya hated court! Yet she had been specifically summoned. She straightened her armour and adjusted her sword one more time as she walked towards the Great Hall, Sandor Clegane on her right.

"Stop fidgeting." Sandor muttered.

"I hate court." Arya replied.

"So do I." Sandor agreed. "But it will only get worse if you let them see a weakness, stop fidgeting."

Arya nodded, she knew that Sandor was right, no matter how things changed some things still remained the same. She saw Tyrion and Podrick approaching and sighed, she had little care for the imp.

Tyrion stopped and bowed deeply. "Well if it isn't Arya Kingmaker, the yellow lady, the queen of bastards." He greeted her.

Arya had gained a few interesting nicknames since the Cregan strike, and not all of them were flattering. Miraculously all of her men had survived, but there had been plenty who had taken issue with their hit and run tactics, others took issue with the fact that because of her both Gendry and Aurane had been legitimised. Arya had heard the phrase 'The yellow lady and her bastard army.' more than once, but the name that had truly stuck, the name that she would likely never shake, was the queen of bastards.

"Why do you insist on calling me the queen of bastards?" She asked, more out of frustration than anger.

Tyrion chuckled. "Has anybody ever told you how much you are like your brother, Jon? I'm sure I've had almost the same conversation with him. He didn't like it when I called him bastard as I recall, and now you are the queen of them, I note that you take less offence at the name Kingmaker."

"That's not an answer." Sandor growled.

Tyrion eyed the much larger man and nodded. "You're right, it's not. They called you hound and dog so you went and got a helm forged in the shape of a hounds head, I'm going to take that to mean you already understand the point."

He turned his attention back to Arya. "My Lady, you have a gentle place in your heart for bastards, many would take that as your weakness, but I see you have already learnt that it is your strength. Take the words of those whom would harm you and claim them as your own, wear them like armour, and they can never be used against you. When they call you queen of bastards thank them for naming you a queen, when they refer to your bastard army be proud that 12 men could be considered an army, and that you choose them... and feel free to point out to me which one is Tysha's son."

"Not my place." Arya replied. "You never sort him out, why should he seek you?"

Galan had told her about what had happened to his mother, the saddest thing was that despite everything that Tysha had suffered, and despite the fact that Tyrion had believed the lie that she was a whore, she had still defended him and begged Galan not to hate him. What the Lannister guards had done to her had almost killed her, but somehow she had made it to a wagon and paid a stranger to take her anywhere but where she was. She was lucky, the farmer that had picked her up had been an honest man, she had fallen unconscious in his cart but he had kept her safe.

He could have taken her silver and left her to die, instead he had taken her into his home, his wife and daughters had tended to her injuries. When she was well enough she had travelled with him to a market in the Stormlands, and there she had stayed. The silver had lasted her many years, but she had used the last of it to buy Galan armour and a sword that he might have a chance at a better life. The day after he had been sworn into service at House Buckler she had hung herself.

"Does he hate me?" Tyrion asked quietly, pulling Arya out of her thoughts.

"No," She replied. "He pities you, and he wants nothing from you, but he doesn't hate you."

For once Tyrion let the mask slip away, Arya watched as a wash of sadness, pain, wistfulness and regret twisted his face. He looked up at her with a suddenly vulnerable expression. "W-would you tell him something for me?"

The sudden vulnerability and the hesitance of his words was too unexpected, Arya could do little more than nod.

Tyrion sighed, he looked down at his hands, seemingly unable to meet Arya's gaze. "Would you tell him that I am glad that he did not inherit my deformity… or my cowardice… I have always been afraid of my father."

"I'll pass the message on." She said quietly.

Tyrion nodded, he turned and started making his way towards the Great Hall, Podrick at his side. As they walked Arya contemplated Tyrion. This was not a side of him that she had expected to see and she was surprised that he considered himself a coward. He was clever, cunning… he was many things, but coward was not a word that Arya would have chosen.

Tyrion had bent the knee to Renly and soon after had convinced his uncle, Kevan Lannister, to denounce Tywin and declare his forces to Renly. In return Kevan had gained the title Warden of the West, a great title, if only he didn't have to attack his own army to claim them. He had not hesitated in declaring war against his older brother, and Reginald Lannister had been quick to ally with the crown as well.

Much of the Northern forces had returned north of the neck, the war for the Westerly Lands did not need them. Tywin, Jamie, and their forces were driven back to Casterly Rock, their supporters dropping in numbers every day, even Gregor Clegane had abandoned them, withdrawing to Clegane's Keep. Surprisingly it was Tyrion who had delivered the crushing blow, advising his uncle of a secret way in. Both Tywin and Jamie had died in the final battle, Clegane's Keep was still under siege.

Arya had no part in these wars and her days were spent dealing with other matters. She did however request that if Gregor Clegane fell that his head be brought back, that it might be offered as a gift to House Martell along with an apology that it had not been delivered two decades earlier. That had been the last time she had been summoned to court, they were set to leave Kings Landing in two days and Arya could only worry about what court would bring today.

~~/~~

Robb, Theon, and Arya's father were already at court, Grey Wind at Robb's side as always, and Arya quickly slipped in beside them. "Where's Gendry?" she asked Robb.

Since Robb and Gendry had come over from Dragonstone Gendry had spent as much time as possible with House Stark. Arya knew that her father was trying to teach Gendry as much as he could about being a good Lord, and Robb and Gendry seemed to have formed a strong friendship. Galan and Derren had also gone into Gendry's service. Derren had been homeless prior to the war and Galan had asked Ser Buckler to release him that he might swear to Gendry. Lord Velaryon had lent Gendry five men to act as a personal guard whilst he was in Kings Landing. But that was hardly enough, and their loyalties lay with the Lord of the Tides, not the Prince of Dragonstone.

"Renly sent for him two hours ago." Robb replied.

Arya rolled her eyes, oh great, If Gendry had been summoned two hours before court this was going to be interesting. She hoped that Gendry was smart enough to stay in his Valyrian chainmail and not put on some stupid doublet that wouldn't protect him, she could almost hear Margery trying to convince him to wear some silly and outrageous piece of clothing. A part of her wanted to slip away, find a bow and arrow, and maybe a box to stand on, and sneak into the curtain wall to watch his back, but she knew she couldn't do that. Her absence would be noticed.

Two trumpeters blew their horns, announcing the arrival of King Renly, and the room became silent as everybody turned to face the great door. Ser Brianne came first, then Ser Loras, although both were members of his personal guard Renly had not made either of them Gold Cloaks, he had instead created special positions for each of them, positions which were not clearly defined.

Renly and Margaery entered together, both were exquisitely dressed, Renly's doublet was green with a golden crowned stag and Magarey's dress was complimentary, greens and golds. Her neckline was plunging, and fine chains fell from a golden rose around her neck, drawing attention to her partially revealed breasts. Her arms were bear, as was much of her waist and lower back, she was showing altogether way too much skin.

Gendry walked behind them, Arya was relieved to see that Gendry was wearing his chainmail. Some effort had been made to tame his wild black hair, but it looked as if he had run his hand through it afterwards, the slightly dishevelled look in strong contrast to his uncle's carefully arranged locks.

Next followed Ser Robar Royce and Ser Emmon Cuy, both of whom had been made Gold Cloaks. Renly had decided to leave Bronn in his current position, despite his connections to Tyrion, in part as he had been very effective to date. There was one unfilled slot on the Kings Guard, but Renly had left it open in hope that Ser Barristan Selmy might return.

A seat had been placed either side of the Iron Throne, Renly directed Margaery to the seat on his left and Gendry took the seat on the right. Arya tried to pay attention, but court was boring, two or three hours passed with nothing that interested her, then suddenly Renly was saying her name and her father was gently nudging her to step forward.

"Lady Arya." Renly repeated.

Arya realised that he was standing, she walked up towards him and he took a couple of steps towards her, she knew that she was expected to kneel, yet for some reason her knee wouldn't bend. She stood at the bottom of the dais, Renly two steps above her, the room broke out into murmurs at her actions… but Arya still couldn't bring herself to kneel.

Renly gave her a gentle smile and then turned towards the crowd. "Enough! I have already told the Yellow Lady that I will not have her bend the knee to me, nor to anyone, Arya Stark does not kneel. I have heard that Lady Arya has gained some new unofficial titles, Kingmaker, Queen of Bastards… Arya did not make me King, but she, and her bastard army, did help."

He walked down the last couple of steps and took Arya's hand, turning her to face the crowd. "This is Arya Stark of Winterfell, the Yellow Lady… and yes, the Queen of Bastards. Her actions over the last few months were not for herself, but for the realm. Like all Starks, she understands that winter is coming, it has been a long summer, and a long winter is to be expected. The Realm needs to be united. Men need to be in the fields harvesting the crops, not at war, burning those same crops down. Arya may be young, but she is smart enough to understand that we need to work together and the Wall needs more men, she has shown wisdom beyond her years and a devotion to the realm that deserves recognition. That is why I am giving her a seat on the small council for the rest of her life, regardless of whom she should wed, and the keys to the realm."

Ned Stark cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Your grace, you do our family great honour, but Arya belongs at Winterfell, not in Kings Landing."

Renly nodded. "Of course, she may come and go from her seat on the council whenever she chooses, but the seat is hers all the same." He turned towards the dais. "Gendry."

Gendry stood up, a small box in his hands, and walked down the steps towards Renly, he opened the box revealing two keys on a black silk cord sitting on a yellow velvet cushion. Renly held up the keys for all to see.

"The keys are symbolic, of course, I wanted gold, but Gendry advised me that Arya would prefer iron or steel. We found a compromise and had them made out of re-forged Valyrian." He turned towards Arya. "May I?"

Arya nodded and he placed the necklace around her neck. The Great Hall clapped and cheered. Gendry gave Arya a gentle smile and handed her the box. Renly gave Gendry a nod and he returned to his seat. Arya studied the keys, amazed and not quite understanding what had just happened. Renly gave her a gentle nod and she stepped back towards her father.

Renly's expression turned serious. "There is one last matter of business, a very serious one. Ned Stark, would you please step forward."

Ned tensed then did what was asked, but he did not kneel, Arya could only wonder if that was because she had not knelt, but as Renly spoke she realised that perhaps the reason was because of the many conversations that her father and Renly had been having… and because of Gendry's words in the room of the painted table.

"History shows that King Torrhen Stark rode south and bent the knee to Aegon the Conquer, but he did not surrender freely, a pact was made and House Stark kept their side of it, House Targaryen did not. No princess of House Targaryen ever married a prince of House Stark. When my brother took power, in his short-sightedness, he tried to retain the North, like King Torrhen, you struck a deal to keep your people safe, but the North know you for what you truly are, a King. I would rather have you as an ally and an equal, it is time the North was returned to the North."

Renly held out his hand to Ned and Ned took the outstretched hand gripping hand to forearm. "House Stark and House Baratheon have a long history of cooperation. I will keep the Iron Islands and the Wildlings from your door, but Arya is right, the Wall needs more men."

"I will do what I can, King of the North."

"All men traveling to the Wall will have safe passage, King of the Realm."

Renly nodded. "Will you walk with me? There is much to discuss before you leave."

Ned nodded and the two left the Great Hall together, Brienne walked before them and Margaery and Loras walked behind, the two Gold Cloaks making up the rear. Once the door shut behind them the room was in an uproar.

Arya turned to Robb. "Did you know?"

Robb reached out and tugged lightly at the keys around her neck. "Not about this, or you being offered a place on the small council… but yes, I knew the North was going to be granted its independence."

Arya smirked. "That means you're a prince!"

"And you're a princess." Robb countered. "Although I sure you don't care."

Suddenly a horrible thought occurred to Arya. "Oh gods," she muttered. "Sansa."

"Princess Sansa." Theon muttered. "That's going to be fun."

Gendry approached, pausing a few steps away. He turned his attention to Robb. "Prince Robb," he said, a cheeky smile on his face. "May I borrow Princess Arya for a few minutes?"

"Of course, Prince Gendry." Robb replied with a smile.

Gendry offered Arya his arm and she took it, letting him lead her out of the Great Hall. Sandor Clegane followed behind. "Tobho Mott forged the keys, they're not random," He indicated one of the keys then lent in closely and talked quietly. "That's the key to the gate."

Arya looked at him in surprise, there was only one gate that he could mean, she had given Gendry the original key to hand over to Renly, just that key, she had kept the rest of the ring. She pointed to the other key. "And this one?"

Gendry blushed. "A little presumptive, but as long as Dragonstone is mine you will always be welcome, that key is to a wing of the royal apartments, the floor above the one I showed you." Before Arya could reply he changed the subject. "Tobho has agreed to sell up his shop and come to Dragonstone to help make weapons for winter… and to finish my training."

Arya nodded. "That's good, how did you convince him?"

"Opal." Gendry replied quietly, he pulled away from her. "I better let you get back to your brother, it's been more than a few minutes… and I believe your father may need rescuing from my uncle." He took her hand and kissed the back of it. "Princess." He said with a teasing smirk.

"Prince." She replied as he turned to leave.

"Careful girl." Sandor muttered once Gendry was out of earshot. "Rumour has it that that Renly wants to marry you to that man."

"What, Gendry?" Arya scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, he's like a brother." But even as the words came out of her mouth she started to wonder just how terrible marrying Gendry would actually be?

~~/~~

Part 30:

Arya stood at the bow of the boat, they were going to Dragonstone for a couple of days, to lay Rhaella Targaryen to rest, and make sure that they left Gendry as well prepared for his role as they possibly could. The High Septon had agreed that given the political climate it was best to bury Rhaella quietly, and had gone ahead to see that things were prepared correctly. Arya only hoped that Shireen managed to keep Opal hidden.

It seemed strange that they would have to bury a former Queen in secret to be allowed to bury her at all. They were burying a dragon, and hiding another dragon, at a place called Dragonstone… it made Arya wonder what other secrets the dragons had hidden there? Arya's fingers subconsciously moved to the keys around her neck, maybe she would find out?

Once they left Dragonstone they would sail to White Habor and take another boat up the White Knife towards Winterfell, where her father would be crowned King of the North. There was no arguing it, ready or not, Arya was going home. Dorne still called to her, but that would have to wait, whatever secrets her family had buried there would remain buried for now. She had hated the restrictions of being a Lady well enough, how many more freedoms would she loose being named a princess?

Robb joined her on deck as Dragonstone came into sight. "You alright, little sister?" He asked as he lent on the rail beside her.

"Thinking." Arya replied.

Robb laughed. "Frowning's more like it. Talk to me."

Arya sighed "I'm worried." She replied.

"You're becoming like father." Robb muttered. "What are you worried about?"

Arya shook her head. "Too many things… If mother thinks she's going to take my blades and my armour from me just because people will call me a princess now…"

"Father won't let that happen." Robb said confidently.

One of the visions from the Weirwood hit Arya… _Suddenly she was her mother, holding an as yet unnamed baby boy in her arms and praying for Ned's safe return… she would never tell him that his first born son was actually his nephew…_

Arya looked at Robb sadly. She hugged him tightly, catching him by surprise. "You are my brother and I love you." She whispered into his chest as she hugged him fiercely. "Never forget that."

"I won't." Robb replied, hugging her back tightly, he pulled back and studied her face. "What's wrong?"

"I can't tell you." Arya whispered. "I want to tell you, but I can't."

"Arya, you can tell me anything." Robb answered.

"Even if it would hurt you?" Arya asked. "Some secrets are best left alone." She pulled away from him and turned to make her way below deck, but he caught her arm.

"Arya please, whatever it is, please tell me."

Arya shook her head, she could feel tears in her eyes, she couldn't do this to him, she wouldn't do this to him, but as he held her arm Grey Wind brushed against her leg and suddenly the choice was taken from her.

 _… A falling star… he forged a weapon from the fallen star with his own two hands… Bran the bloody came to him… a young boy wrapped in wolfskin… She was the wind, howling in rage… the wolfboy came and build Storms End with rock and magic, learning her secrets and locking her out… Blue roses blooming in the winter snows… a midwife holding a black haired babe… a birthing bed drenched in blood… a sword that shone like the dawn… A dragon with the head of a wolf… Ashara Dayne, speaking her grief aloud and then throwing herself to her death… a young Ned Stark arriving at Starfall with a midwife and a babe… Catelyn Tully Stark at Riverrun holding a baby Robb and quietly whispering to him that his father was Brandon Stark… promising him that Winterfell would be his…_

Robb suddenly let her go and the visions stopped, he looked at her in shock, suddenly lost. Arya hesitated for a moment then hugged him again. "You are my brother, my blood." She whispered. "I love you and nothing can change that." She hesitated for a moment, deciding if she should tell him about Ros. "You have another sister." She said quietly. "She grew up in Wintertown, you've met her… after her mother died she became a prostitute to survive… her name is Ros."

Robb pulled back to look at he, tears in his eyes. "Ros is my sister?"

Arya nodded. "She moved to Kings Landing… she helped me, I don't know where she is now, but she's trying to keep Gendry's brothers and sisters safe."

Robb hugged her tightly again, burying his head into her shoulder and cried, huge shaking sobs. Arya could feel that his whole world had just shattered and she felt guilty, then she felt angry, angry at her mother for being so cruel to Jon, and for lying to Robb and her father, angry at her uncle Brandon for the mess he had made… angry at her grandfather for allowing things to escalate as they had.

"We have to get Jon back." Robb whispered. "We have to find a way."

"The Night's Watch is for life." Arya replied quietly.

"So are the Gold Cloaks, yet Ser Barristan Selmy was dismissed… we can use that as a precedent… if we offer a hundred men in his place…"

"We'll talk to father about it." Arya said quietly.

Robb nodded. " _Father_ … How will I ever look him in the eye and call him that again?"

"Maybe you don't." Arya replied. "Maybe it's time he knew the truth?"

"What truth?" Ned Stark asked.

Arya looked up in shock, she hadn't even heard him approach over the sound of the waves crashing against the bow of the boat. Robb squared his shoulders and looked Ned Stark in the eye.

"That I'm your nephew, not your son, that I'm a bastard as much as Jon is. That I'm not the heir to Winterfell."

"You are my son." Ned replied firmly. "I may not have had a hand in creating you, but you are my blood and I raised you, what point was there in dragging your mother's name through the mud and telling the world that you're Brandon's? It doesn't change anything, I would have had you named and raised you anyway, you are Brandon's heir, you will inherit Winterfell. I told you, I love you and Jon equally."

"Then why not name him?" Robb challenged.

"Because that wasn't what Lyanna wanted." Ned replied stoically.

Arya gasped. "Lyanna? Lyanna Stark?" she asked.

Ned nodded grimly. "Jon's not a bastard, and his name isn't Jon, but to reveal his name and his true parentage would be a death sentence to him, do you both understand?"

"That's the secret you hid at Starfall!" Arya exclaimed. "That's what the Weirwoods have been trying to tell me!"

"Yes." Ned replied. "Gendry told me you felt driven to go there, now you have the answer."

"What is his real name?" Robb asked.

Ned's answer was very quiet and Arya didn't think she had understood for a moment, it sounded as if her father had said "His name… is Aegon."

"Aegon?" Both her and Robb asked at the same time.

Ned shook his head. "Isaeyan." He said only slightly louder. "His name's Isaeyan. It is a masculine variant of the name Visenya."

"Isaeyan Targaryen, first of his name." Arya whispered quietly. "Robb has an idea on how to get him back."

"I don't think your mother wants him back." Ned said softly.

"I don't think our mother has a leg to stand on," Robb replied. "Reveal the truth of my parentage if you have to, but we get Jon home, promise me."

"Promise me… maybe that should be the new house motto." Ned muttered. "What's your idea?"

The three huddled near the bow of the ship and talked in low voices, the crashing of waves masking their conversation. Arya repositioned herself to be able to watch if anybody tried to approach. That night, when they were safely at Dragonstone, the three gathered in a room with Grey Wind. They sat on a long couch Arya and Robb each on different sides of Ned, and Arya tried to contact Jon.

~~/~~

Arya thought of Nymeria, her pack had grown, not just lesser wolves but dogs as well. Nymeria must have over sixty animals with her now. Arya felt the dew of the grass beneath her paws and smelt the scents of the night woods. Nymeria had already feed and was sitting beside a small stream, almost as if she had been waiting for Arya. Arya thought of Grey Wind, of the great Heart Tree at Winterfell and of her father.

Suddenly she was standing near the black pool. Robb, Ned, Grey Wind and Nymeria were with her. Ned looked around in amazement, his fingers reached out and touched the Weirwood, he pulled back in surprise at the solidness of it, he then turned towards the black pool, he sat on the fallen log and dipped his hand into the water.

"Cold." He muttered. "Gods, I don't understand this but it's real, isn't it?"

Robb nodded. "It's real… can you smell the moss and bark?"

Ned nodded. "Yes," He turned to Arya. "What now?"

"Think of Ghost." Arya replied. "The White of his fur, the red of his eyes… think of ghost and he will lead us to Jon." No sooner had she said the words than Ghost came running out of the Gods Wood, shaking snow from his fur… but Jon wasn't with him. Ghost went to the black pool and drank then turned to Arya, she reached out to him and sank her hands into his fur, he nuzzled her and she hugged him tightly. "Find Jon." She whispered.

Jon walked out of the woods, looking confused. "How?" he muttered.

"Have you met Mance Rayder yet?" Arya asked.

Jon nodded, he looked surprised and even more confused. "Yes."

"And Tormund Giantsbane?" Jon nodded again. "Stay close to Tormund, you're going to need him." Arya said quietly. "Father needs to talk to you, Robb and I would give you privacy but we don't know if the link will stay."

Jon nodded, he sat down near Ned on the log and slowly, painfully, Ned began to tell him who he really was.

"I made you a promise," Ned said quietly. "I said that the next time I saw you we would talk about your mother. I'm not sure if this counts, exactly, but when we are actually face to face there may not be time. I promised her I would keep you safe, but to do that I had to lie to you, and about you, you are my nephew, not my son…"

They talked for hours, Jon was angry at first, lost, confused. He rejected the name Isaeyan and was devastated to learn that he was Rhaegar's son, he even threatened to leave, but Rob stopped him.

Robb grabbed him into a hug, pulling him close. "You think you're angry." Robb said as he let Jon go. "I just found out I'm Brandon's son, I'm the true bastard of Winterfell, not you."

Jon turned to Ned. "Is that true?" he asked in shock. Ned nodded. "Gods, any other surprises?"

Ned looked down, fixing his eyes on the black pool. "Bran is Benjen's." He whispered quietly.

"What?!" All three asked in shock.

Ned kept his eyes on the black pool. "When I came back from the Iron Island's with Theon… Cat was angry," He looked up at Jon. "She was angry about you and now I was bringing home somebody else's son to raise. We fought, words were said… Robert called me down to Kings Landing and I went. While I was away Benjen came down from the Wall. Cat knew that he knew who your mother was, she tried to get the truth out of him but he refused… I guess they were drinking... he tried to comfort her but it turned into something else. He confessed it to me the next time I saw him, but Cat has never admitted it. That's why Benjen and I don't talk to each other."

Arya looked at her father, he suddenly looked far older than his years and there were tears in his eyes. She went over and sat down beside him, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back. Slowly Jon and Robb came and sat with them on the fallen log. Robb hugged him from the other side.

"You are my children, my blood." Ned whispered. "I love you, all of you. But sometimes it hurts so damn much."

They sat in silence for a while, it was Jon that broke it. "You need to know what's happening north of the Wall." He said quietly. "The Wildlings are uniting, thousands of them, even the Giants."

"Giants?" Robb questioned.

"Yes, Giants." Jon confirmed. "I've seen one… they're afraid… and they have every reason to be. I've seen what they're afraid of… The others are real… and Craster has made a deal with them, he gives them his sons. Mormont knows, the Nights Watch has failed, it is no longer on the side of the living."

"That's a little hard to believe." Ned said hesitantly.

Jon pushed himself to his feet. "Look around you!" He yelled. "Is it any harder to believe than this?! I've seen them." He rested his hand against the Weirwood. "I've seen them." He whispered, suddenly they were in the haunted forest north of the Wall. They all saw what Jon had seen that night when he had followed Craster. The images passed quickly and suddenly they were back at the Weirwood. "Do you believe me now?" Jon whispered.

Ned nodded. "I believe you, but it's at least a month before I can get to you, can you hold out that long?"

Jon nodded. "Yes. I'll be careful."

Ned nodded. "Isaeyan, I'm sorry I never let you know your real name."

Jon shrugged. "Isaeyan sounds a little too fancy for a Northerner, I like Jon." He said quietly. "It's a good name, I've always been proud that you named me after Jon Arryn."

"And King Jon Stark, who drove the pirates out of the White Knife." Ned added.

Jon looked down. "I'm still angry at you." He said quietly. "I'm going to need some time, a month sounds good."

Ned nodded. "Watch your back." He said quietly. "You are my blood, whatever else you are, you are my blood and I do love you."

Jon nodded and was suddenly gone, Ghost was gone too. A moment later Arya found herself back at Dragonstone, leaning against her father with Robb on the other side. She blinked, taking in the room and stood slowly. Suddenly the room began to spin, her father's strong arms wrapped around her as she went crashing towards the floor. He tried to pick her up but stumbled on his bad leg and Robb caught them both. Arya was barely conscious as Robb took her from her father's arms and carried her to her room, the connection had taken a lot out of her. She vaguely recalled him placing her on her bed, but somehow her bed had turned into soft grass and she was surrounded by dogs and wolves, the air heavily scented with wildflowers and peat… and the safe scents of the pack.

~~/~~


	7. Chapters 31 - 35

Part 31:

 _The world was earth and fur and grass, the gentle sounds of the cool stream running close by, the birds in the trees… A man with a cart full of turnips passed quickly on the king's road, his horse skittish, the pack was upwind and the horse had caught their scent… but the pack took no interest._

 _Nymeria checked on wolf and dog and hound alike. This wolf was pregnant… her mate killed by hunters… that dog had belonged to a farmer who had starved it and beaten it often, the farmer and his sheep all dead now… this one had been a pet, until it had stopped being a puppy and its owner had gotten bored with it… Nymeria had found the owner and claimed the new pup which had replaced it as well… as for the owner… those five had been caged most of their life… those pups had lost their mother… this hound had been cast out after it had lost an eye and part of its face saving it's owners daughter from being raped…it seemed that Nymeria was collecting waifs and strays and broken things… teaching them to be strong._

 _Arya knew that she was warging Nymeria… but what was interesting was that Nymeria seemed to be able to warg her pack! Arya could feel their minds, could see through their eyes and smell through their noses… it started with one or two, but slowly Arya was able to increase the number of animals that she could see through… in time she was able to share the senses of ten or twelve animals at once. Nymeria was stronger… and it was almost as if Nymeria was teaching her… a day and a night passed… Nymeria was able to control three or four hunts at once, Arya's mind going along for the ride, Arya started giving the animals names._

 _One-eye had a very good nose, he was good at finding nests of rabbits… black-ears was good at catching fish… tiny, a small lap dog that had no place in the wild, had a knack for finding duck and chicken eggs…_

 _One of the wolves noticed bandits sneaking up on a camp of traders, they took out the bandits and left the traders be… dragging the bandits bodies back to the pack… the traders were none the wiser, their guards drunk and asleep at the fire… Arya tried not to gag as Nymeria gorged herself on man-flesh… Another morning came, Arya felt the cool water of the stream as Nymeria drank, she tasted it's sweetness and looked down at Nymeria's reflection… suddenly she knew that she needed to get back… she had other pack that needed her._

~~/~~

Arya woke up slowly, she could feel the bed, the room, but she could still smell pack… Grey Wind! She went to move and found that Robb's direwolf was lying across her legs, she opened her eyes and saw Robb asleep on a chair beside her bed. She tried to say his name but ended up coughing instead, Robb was awake and at her side quickly, pressing a cup of water to her lips.

"Easy," He whispered. "Easy, you've been asleep for a couple of days… you gave us quite a scare."

Arya nodded. "I need to pee." She muttered and pushed herself from the bed, her legs didn't want to hold her up at first, Robb caught her as she lost her balance and she lent on him as he led her towards a privy. Not long after Arya had returned to her room there was a light knock on the door.

Robb opened the door and Arya saw a man no older than 25yrs old dressed in Maester's robes, the man was slight of build with dark brown hair and kind hazel eyes, despite his youth his Maester's chain had a fair number of links and she noticed that he had not just one but two links of Valyrian steel. Maester Luwin had told her that only one Maester in a hundred had a Valyrian steel link on their chain, it was a sign that they had studied the higher mysteries… yet this young Maester had two links; one round, like Maester Luwin's. the other elongated with a small blue sapphire set into it.

"I'm Maester Pylos, it is good to see you awake." He said in a gentle voice.

Arya nodded and continued to look at his chain. "Three copper links, that's history, yes?"

"Yes." Maester Pylos replied with a smile.

Arya continued to access the chain, thankful that Maester Luwin had always indulged her curiosity. "Four silver links, you're good at medicine… pale steel, you've studied smithing, and I notice that one of your Valyrian links is connected to a pale steel link, also it has a Sapphire set into it. Sapphires represent the preservation of honour and truth, yes?"

"So some say." Maester Pylos replied. "Few outside of our order pay too much attention to the composition of a Maester's chain."

Arya nodded. "Blacksmiths pay attention to Maester chains, Mikken taught me that. Add that to the copper link on the other side and one might think you've tried to puzzle out the secrets of forging new Valyrian steel."

"Arya!" Robb exclaimed. "Don't be rude."

Pylos shook his head. "Your sister is actually correct." He returned his attention to Arya. "Who is Mikken?"

"Mikken is the head blacksmith at Winterfell." Arya replied. "He sups at our father's table at least once a moon when our father is in residence."

"I see." Pylos replied. "You have a sharp mind and a keen eye, now, let's see how you are physically."

Robb left Arya with the Maester, the tests were annoying, she had to follow his finger with her eyes and stick out her tongue, she had to watch a candle while he brought it close to one eye and then the other, he felt around her neck for lumps and checked her pulse, after about thirty minutes of poking and prodding he declared her well.

"Now," he said taking a step backwards. "Care to tell me what happened?"

Arya hesitated. "You've studied the higher mysteries, what do you know of wargs?"

"Well in theory -" Pylos started to reply.

"No theory." Arya interrupted. "I'm a warg, but I have nobody to teach me. I got stuck in Nymeria for a couple of days, now, what do you know about wargs?"

"Not enough to help you." Pylos replied quietly, he seemed to accept what she had just told him as fact. "But I will see what I can learn."

"Have you ever heard of a warg's diarwolf being able to warg lesser wolves or dogs?" Arya asked.

"No, I haven't." Pylos answered, again he seemed to believe her, or at least believe that she believed what she was telling him.

"I think Nymeria can." Arya said quietly. "I think there is some part of me in her, and some part of her in me."

Pylos nodded. "Well that might explain the howling… although your family seem to consider it quite normal that you howl in your sleep, there are some very unique books here, I will see what I can find." He replied quietly, he bowed and went to leave but he paused at the doorway. "Your brother is a warg too, yes?"

"All my brothers are wargs." Arya replied.

"And your sister?" Pylos asked.

Arya frowned. "I think so, I don't think she's realised yet, but I think she has to be."

Pylos nodded and left, leaving her to get dressed. Arya was just exiting her room to search out some breakfast when she saw Shireen coming down the hallway, at the sight of her Shireen burst into a run and the smaller girl threw her arms around Arya in a hug.

"You're okay!" Shireen exclaimed. "Everybody's been so worried about you, especially Gendry!"

Arya pulled back from Shireen and laughed. "More worried than my father and brother?" She asked jokingly.

Shireen nodded fervently. "But don't tell him I told you, he'll get embarrassed."

"I tell you what, I'll make you a deal." Arya replied. "I won't tell him you told me, but in return I need you to look after him for me once I'm gone, if you're worried send me a raven, I'll come if I can."

Shireen nodded. "Deal." She replied, she grabbed Arya's hand and started pulling her along the hallway. "Let's go have breakfast."

~~/~~

Ned had decided to extend their say at Dragonstone by a couple of weeks to make sure that Arya was in full health before they set sail. Arya had missed Rhaella's funeral, but Gendry took her down to the tomb to pay her respects. Dragonstone had a large Sept and the old crypts of House Targaryen were below it, Arya found the place fascinating. She had always been taught that Valyrians burnt their dead, yet the crypts at the great Sept in Kings Landing, and the crypts here, proved that to be a lie. However there were far fewer crypts than Arya had expected.

When she asked the Septon about it he told her that they had burnt most of their dead, but they didn't burn dragon riders, or kings. Arya thought it fitting that after everything Rhaella had suffered in life she had been given the same level of respect in death as a dragon rider.

Arya spent some of her time with Shireen and Opal, but she also spent time training with Galan and Derren, she had told Galan of her conversation with Tyrion while they were on the boat. Gendry spent much of his time with Davos, Ned, and Robb, he had never been taught how to run a castle, or mine Dragon glass, and he needed all of the help he could get.

Maester Pylos seemed a good fit, and he often joined them for the evening meal. Arya was proud to notice that Gendry always gave Galan and Derren a seat at the table, and that he had kept up with having a different servant sit and talk with them each night. Shireen seemed happier as well. But Gendry still looked like he wasn't sleeping properly.

On the fourth day after Arya had woken up from her extended warg she asked Gendry over breakfast if he could spend the morning helping her with something. He agreed, and then spent the rest of the meal trying to find out what he had agreed to, but she wouldn't tell him.

After breakfast she asked him to take her to the royal wing, he smiled, assuming that she wanted to know what her key unlocked, but instead she directed him to the rooms that she knew he was sleeping in. Gendry could do nothing but follow her as she looked through the rooms.

"You're still sleeping on the recliner, no wonder you're not sleeping well." Arya muttered. "It's time we made this room yours."

She attacked the bedroom first, having the bed stripped and the room cleaned, she went to the wardrobe and found it full of male clothing. She sorted the clothing into three piles, often making Gendry try things on. Anything with dragons on it she put in one pile, anything she thought Gendry wouldn't wear, or that wouldn't fit him, she put into another pile, and anything she thought suitable for him she put in a third pile.

There were no weapons on the walls and the heavy tapestries were soothing scenes, this was the room of a poet, not a fighter, next she went through the draws, her fingers stumbled upon a letter with the dried petals of a blue winter rose inside, she opened the letter hesitantly and read it. The letter was from Lyanna to Rhaegar.

"What have you found?" Gendry asked.

Arya hesitated then passed him the letter. "I believe this was Rhaegar's room." She said quietly.

Gendry read the letter in silence then passed it back to her. "Your father needs to see this." He said quietly.

Arya nodded. "Gendry… if I told you a secret that could get my whole family killed you would keep it, wouldn't you?"

"Arya… you know I would! We're pack." Gendry replied with that half smile of his.

Arya nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Shut the door." She said quietly.

Gendry did as she asked and then walked over towards her. "Arya?"

Arya picked up one of the petals carefully and looked at it. "Lyanna had a son." She whispered. "Father hid him, to protect him from King Robert."

"Is he still alive?" Gendry asked, sitting down on the bed beside her. Arya nodded. "You don't have to tell me who he is." Gendry said quietly. "But anything I find I'll put aside for him." He gestured to the pile of clothes with dragons embroidered on them. "I'll put those aside too, I'll keep your cousin's secret, but the day may come when your cousin doesn't have to hide… or can't hide… I…" Gendry shook his head and stood up. He walked to the window and looked out. Arya didn't think he was going to talk again but after a while he did. "If the day comes where I have to choose between Renly and House Stark I choose House Stark."

"Gendry?" Arya questioned.

He turned around to look at her. "It's an easy choice… But we need to tread carefully, we need the Tyrell's right now. My father put the realm over six and a half million in debt ,and Joffrey pushed it beyond seven million. The Lannister's have wiped the three million plus that we owe them, but we're still in debt to House Tyrell, The Church, and the Iron Bank. And we need the Tyrell crops if we are going to survive winter. You need to understand what you're deciding if you want your cousin on the throne, but if the time comes, I'm on your side. I believe you have House Velaryon as well."

"Are you sure?" Arya asked, standing.

Gendry nodded. "Yes, go home, see your father crowned, do whatever else you need to do… then, if your cousin is a good man, come back. Sit on the small council and be your cousin's spy, build support. If Daenerys decides to cross the narrow sea with her dragons we may have no choice but to reveal your cousin's claim to disprove hers… and we have a dragon…"

"My cousin is a good man." Arya said quietly, she crossed the few steps between them and hugged him. "Thank you." She whispered.

"Gods." Gendry muttered as he pulled away from the hug. "What have you gotten me into, Arya Stark? I wasn't taught how to play the game of thrones."

"No, but you're learning quickly." Arya replied, she frowned. "You're not fond of House Tyrell, are you?"

"No." Gendry replied.

"Why." Arya asked.

Gendry looked down, he looked so sad and Arya thought she could see the beginning of a tear in his eye. "I'll tell you one day." He said quietly. "When you're older."

Arya nodded, they went back to sorting the room in silence, once the bedroom was sorted they moved onto the main room, when they got to the office Gendry took one look at the piles of papers and books and closed the door again.

"I think we've done enough." He said quietly. "Are you hungry?"

Arya laughed. "I'm always hungry." She replied.

Gendry nodded. "Let's go get some food."

Arya shook her head and gestured towards the small table. "Let's send for some food and have it brought here, you need to make this space your own."

Gendry agreed. They sat and talked for a while, once the food and drink had been brought in, and the servants were gone, Gendry pulled out his dragon egg. "I wonder why Shireen's egg hatched and mine didn't." He muttered as he turned it in his hands.

Arya shrugged. "Maybe she needed hers to hatch? Maybe you weren't ready for yours to hatch yet?"

"Do you really think I can hatch a dragon?" Gendry asked, the doubt and lack of self-confidence clear in his voice.

Arya shrugged. She reached out and Gendry handed the egg to her, she turned it over carefully in her hands, tracing a line of white, then a line of midnight blue… a line of silver. She again marvelled at its beauty, and at how warm it felt. "Do you want it to hatch?" She asked.

"Maybe." Gendry replied. "The idea kind of scares me, but if I can hatch it…" He shook his head.

Arya lifted the egg up and placed a gentle kiss on it. She stood up and walked over to Gendry, placing the egg in his hands. "Feel how warm it is." She said gently. "It's alive, it's just waiting for you to be ready."

"He." Gendry said softly.

Arya smiled. "Your dragon is a he?"

Gendry frowned and shook his head. "I don't know why I said that."

"You said it because it's true, you've been having dragon dreams, haven't you?" Gendry nodded. Arya place her hand on top of Gendry's on the egg. "You can feel him, can't you?"

"Yes." Gendry replied. "But I don't know how to make him hatch."

"The knowing comes last." Arya replied, remembering what Syrio had taught her about seeing. "Don't think, look at it, but don't think." She lent in closer. "The heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes see true." She whispered into his ear. "Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears… Feel with your skin. Then comes the thinking, afterward, and in that way knowing the truth."

Slowly she lifted her hand away and took a step backwards, she quietly moved back to her seat and watched as Gendry studied the egg. He stroked the shell gently, all of his attention on the egg. After a few minutes Arya decided to break the silence by asking Gendry a question. "What's his name?" She asked.

"Dragonsteel." Gendry answered without hesitation. No sooner had he said the word than the shell began to crack.

Arya watched in wonder as the dragon slowly chipped away at the shell with its egg tooth, she wanted to move closer but she knew that she would be taking something precious away from Gendry if she did. It took over twenty minutes for the baby dragon to slowly hatch. Arya watched as Gendry stroked it's snout in wonder once it's head was finally free, he stroked Dragonsteel's head and helped pull the loose bits of shell free, slowly its shoulders were free.

Its colouring matched that of its egg, the eyes were a dark grey shot with flecks of white and blue. Its head was more elongated and less rounded than Opal's and it shimmered like metal. Slowly it crawled out of its shell and cuddled into the crook of Gendry's arm as Gendry picked loose bits of shell away. It was larger than Opal and its tail had small spikes, where Opal's tail was smooth. It seemed tired after the effort of hatching.

Gendry picked up a pear and bit a small piece off of it, he plucked the piece of pear out of his mouth and hand feed the baby dragon, Dragonsteel ate the white flesh, but not the skin. Gendry bit off another small piece and feed it again. Arya was mesmerised.

"Arya, can you cut me a small piece of cheese?" Gendry asked quietly.

Arya nodded, she cut a small slice then cut it into smaller pieces again, she watched as Gendry feed two small pieces of cheese to Dragonsteel. The baby dragon stretched and extended his wings for the first time, causing Arya to gasp, the patternation of his wings was incredible. After maybe an hour Gendry stood up and walked over to Arya, placing the baby dragon in her hands.

"Here, hold him for a while."

Arya shook her head. "Gendry… I..."

"He already knows you." Gendry replied quietly. "You're in my dragon dreams."

Dragonsteel sniffed her then curled up in her lap and fell asleep. He stayed there quite contently as they finished up their lunch.

"I think you're trapped." Gendry muttered.

Arya smiled and gently stroked Dragonsteel's head. "Yeah." She agreed.

"Mind keeping him safe while I sort out a cage for him?" Gendry asked.

"No, not at all." Arya replied.

Gendry wasn't gone long, they set the cage up in the bedroom. They put one of Gendry's tunics in the cage, some more fruit and cheese, and some water. Dragonsteel woke up as Gendry carried him to the cage, but he didn't seem to mind. Arya and Gendry sat and watched him sleep for a while, like a couple of proud parents watching a new-born babe.

"Thank you." Gendry whispered as they walked out of the room.

"For what?" Arya asked frowning. "I didn't do anything."

Gendry just shook his head. "You did everything." He replied.

~~/~~

Part 32:

The royal apartments spanned four levels and made up part of one of the great stone dragons that wrapped around one of the stone towers, it was a feat of masonry, but it also lent itself to some very oddly shaped rooms. Nobody could find a key that would open the highest level or lowest levels and Gendry insisted that getting the doors open was beyond his skills… the way he said it suggested that the doors were more than just locked.

Looking up from the outside of the tower the highest level of the royal apartments should be the smallest level, but in some ways the outside of the tower and the inside didn't seem to match up and Arya suspected that the solidary door led to more than just one level of rooms, possibly even encompassing the entire head of the stone dragon. There appeared to be no internal access to that part of the keep from any part of the tower… but then again, this was a tower built for dragon riders, maybe there was no internal access?

The next level down was the level that Gendry had given her a key to, and judging by the outside of the tower it couldn't be that many rooms. The next level down, the level that Gendry's rooms were in was at least twice as large and appeared to be the only level that had been occupied in the last century. Arya had convinced Shireen to consider moving out of her grim prison of a room to one of the brighter rooms there, Shireen hadn't decided yet, but the two girls had explored some of the rooms, with Dragonsteel and Opal's help, and Shireen did agree that it would be easier to protect the baby dragons if they were together.

The dragons would benefit from more time together as well. They wanted to keep the dragons secret for as long as possible, but every time Shireen smuggled Opal across the keep in her skirts there was a risk of discovery. Arya had no idea what secrets the lowest of the four levels held but it looked as if it was quite a large level too.

Arya stood in Aegon's garden, looking up at the tower and contemplating what must be inside. She absently rubbed her fingers along the key. The simplest answer was to go and have a look, but something held her back. Part of it was that she liked having a secret, if she went and looked now, with Robb, her Father, and Theon here then everybody would soon know about the key. They would start to read all sorts of hidden meanings into it, they didn't understand.

It wasn't about her, or Gendry, it was about surviving the winter… none of them truly understood. None of them knew what the other self's memories did to her, not even Gendry, but he knew better than most. She hadn't told him everything, she couldn't, she had told him many terrible things, but she would never tell him about what had finally been his doom in the other life…

 _The Night King laughed as Gendry's hammer shattered in his hands, the sound was like a howling of winds, the Night King put his hand around Gendry's throat, slowly crushing the windpipe, and Arya screamed. Suddenly uncle Benjen came out of nowhere… Cold-Hands the wildlings called him now… Benjen road straight into them and the Night King lost his grip on Gendry. Gendry managed to scramble away as the night King attacked Benjen. But the skin around Gendry's neck was discoloured and he was struggling to breath… Uncle Benjen was out matched, it had been suicide to try and save Gendry, as the Night King cut Benjen down Benjen's eyes met Arya's and he manged to utter three words. "Arya… Dragon glass… Weirwood!"_

 _It was enough, Bran had told her how the Children had stopped uncle Benjen from turning, she raced towards Gendry. "I'll save you." She promised. By the time Sandor Clegane and her got Gendry to the Weirwood the blue of his eyes was already changing._

 _"Ar..ya." He whispered, his damaged throat scarcely able to form the word._

 _"I'll save you." Arya whispered. The shard of Dragon glass bit into her shaking hand and drew blood as she raised it up to his exposed chest. She paused for a moment as their eyes met, tears spilling down her face. "I can't lose you again." She whispered, his hand reached up and stroked her cheek and he held her gaze as she used all of her strength to push the shard into his heart. He gasped a shaky breath and his arms wrapped around her. He lent his forehead against hers and she could almost feel his pain… she could feel his pain…_

 _She collapsed against him, her bloody hands resting on his chest as his heart stopped beating and the heat began to slowly seep out of him. His arms wrapped around her and held her tight, the change was slow, Sandor stood over them, sword drawn, ready to take down one or both of them if required… she could feel his pain…_

 _It had worked, Gendry was caught somewhere between the living and the dead, but the Night King didn't hold sway over him. She thought nothing of how her blood had spilled over the shard as she positioned it over his heart – she should have… in the back of her mind she could feel his pain…_

Arya let her hand fall away from the key and turned her back on the tower. Silent tears streamed down her face and she had to reach her hand out in front of her to find her way as she walked. She and Shireen had been playing with the dragons earlier in the day and she had let her hair out as Dragonsteel was fascinated by it. Her fingers brushing against the dark bark of these strange trees, trees that smelt like pine, but weren't. These trees that were as dark as Ironwoods… she felt a hand reach out to grab her hair and turned… but all that stood there was a cranberry bush, the white flowers and blood-red berries vibrant against the lush green leaves. This was one of the sweeter varieties.

She untangled her hair from the bush and wiped her tears from her eyes, a bunch of berries dislodging as she did so, she caught the berries instinctively and decided to go see if they were something that Dragonsteel would like. It still amazed her how much both dragons enjoyed eating fruit. She absently popped a berry into her mouth as she walked… she had never tasted cranberries like the ones found in this garden.

~~/~~

She was standing outside of the door again, Dragonsteel was across her shoulders, her hair loose to conceal him in the unlikely event that a servant crossed her path. The servant's never came here unless requested. Slowly she placed her candle on the floor and removed the keys from around her neck, she placed the key in the lock and turned it. The lock turned easily, she placed her hand on the dragon bone door handle and the door, although heavy, swung inwards with ease.

The air smelt musty and there was a layer of dust everywhere, yet she could see that somebody had been in there recently. There was fresh oil and wicks in the lamps and fresh candles in a basket by the door with a small note sitting neatly on top of them. Arya picked up the note and read it.

 _It took you long enough.  
\- Gendry._

Arya couldn't help but smirk. She closed the door carefully behind her and stretched up on her tiptoes to light a couple of the lamps. This hallway was at least as ornate as the hall to the wing below, and the carved dragons seemed to dance in the flicker of her low light, she could have lit more lamps but it felt wrong to waste the oil… they would need every drop come winter. With only one end of the hall lit Arya gained a greater appreciation for the design of the hall, the dragons weren't just decoration, they were strategically placed to reflect and magnify the lamplight.

Dragonsteel seemed as fascinated as Arya was. He hadn't quite learnt to fly yet but he was getting the hang of gliding, he launched himself off of Arya's shoulder and flapped his wings a few times, getting a good ten to fifteen paces away from her before hitting the ground… Arya wasn't looking forward to the day when he discovered windows. He chirped and clicked at her as he excitedly ran back to her, only to climb up her and launch off again. Arya laughed and let him do it a few more times before picking him up and looking into the rooms, she held him in her right hand and kept a firm grip on one of his feet so he couldn't suddenly leap away from her and put himself into unexpected danger.

All of the rooms were interesting, but Arya was trying not to look too deeply at this stage. She knew that the rooms closest to the stairs would be lesser rooms, possibly once assigned to personal guards, there were rich tapestries and hooks on the walls were weapons must have once hung, but the weapons themselves seemed to have gone. The furniture was amazingly intricate, the fourth room that Arya entered took her breath away. There was a war hammer mounted on the wall, the shaft carved from black dragon bone… the head Valyrian steel. She had to stand on a chair to get it down.

In the next room she found 3 dragon bone longbows, like the ones that the Dothraki were fabled to use. She pulled two of them down, but she couldn't carry the bows, the hammer, and control Dragonsteel all at once. She took Dragonsteel back to Gendry's rooms and the safety of his cage. She went back for the hammer first, it was heavy and she struggled to carry it, even in both hands, she put the war hammer on the table in Gendry's main room and went back for the bows. She knew that there was still much to explore but she was too eager to try out one of the bows, she put out the lamps and grabbed the note that Gendry had left her, carefully locking the door behind her. It took her a while to find quill and ink, on the back of Gendry's note she wrote her own.

 _Found this.  
\- Arya._

She checked on Dragonsteel one last time before picking up the two bows and going in search of Derren.

~~/~~

Part 33:

They were fortunate on the voyage from Dragonstone to White Habor, the weather was fair and they made good speed. It was the first time that Arya had ever been to White Harbor, the only actual city in the North, and even though it was small by southern standards it was still busy enough. It was very quiet compared to the ports of Braavos. White Harbor was the seat of House Manderly and from both a tactical and a financial position it made them one of the most powerful houses in the North.

Father had sent a raven ahead and they were greeted by a guard of twenty men with freshly polished armour and shields, all bearing the white and green of their house. They were led by an extremely tall and broad man in silver armour, engraved as if to look like flowing seaweed. He wore a fantastical helm, moulded to look like the head of the Merling King. When he removed his helm Arya caught a quick glimpse of green beads on his wrist, she immediately recognised the charm as being both similar, and different, to her own.

The charm was the last thing that Arya expected to see on a member of House Manderly, the family was old and originally from the Reach, much further south, where the Faith of the Seven had total dominance. Hundreds of years ago the Andals and their Faith Militant had aggressively spread the faith of the Seven, burning Weirwoods and decimating entire family's for clinging to the Old Gods, they had been successful everywhere but the North. The Manderly's were one of the few Northern family's that followed the Seven and Lord Wyman even claimed the honorary title of 'Shield of the Faith' although it was unknown whether the title was recognised by the High Septon and the Most Devout. House Manderly was also the only family who held claim to the title 'Knight of the Order of the Green Hand' who had survived.

Arya's head was full of questions that she could not ask and she searched the man's face for answers. His beard and eyes were both grey and his eyes were keenly observant, she was sure that he noticed the glimmer of recognition in her eyes and the slight furrowing of her brow. She allowed her right sleeve to ride up for just a second, allowing a momentary glimpse of her charm, and she was sure that he gave her the subtlest of nods before bowing deeply and introducing himself as Ser Marlon Manderly, the commander of the White Garrison at New Castle. He apologised that his Uncle was not there to greet them personally, stating that Lord Wyman had been too immense to right a horse for many years now.

"To be lean is a fine enough thing in Summer, but nobody wants to be the runt of the litter when winter comes." Ned Stark replied diplomatically. He gestured for Ser Marlon to stand.

Marlon smiled at his reply. "Speaking of runts, what is this?" He asked, taking a step towards Arya as he spoke.

Sandor Clegane took a step in front of Arya and placed his and on the hilt of his sword. "Is that how you greet a princess?" He asked in a low growl. Everybody froze.

"Sandor, stand down, we are guests here. I am sure Ser Marlon meant no offence." Arya ordered, the last thing she needed was for him to be picking a fight. She stood tall and straight, as she imagined Queen Nymeria would have done. Sandor gave another low growl and then returned to her side, his hand still lingering near the hilt of his sword. "I said, stand down. Move your hand away from your sword." She chided, Sandor reluctantly obeyed.

"So the rumours are true, the Hound is in Princess Arya's service." Marlon muttered.

Arya moved quickly but her father was quicker, his hand catching her sword arm. "Sandor Clegane no longer goes by that name, and Arya has vowed never to tolerate anybody using it. I suggest you retract your words before I retract my hand." Ned Stark said firmly.

Ser Marlon's gaze moved from Ned to Arya then back again. "A wild wolf, I see, and brave." He turned his gaze to Sandor. "Sandor Clegane, I apologise, we hear so much fiction from the docks that it is difficult to decipher fact. It is good to know that Princess Arya has such a loyal man in her service, and to be reminded that Stark's are true to their word."

Ned retracted his hand and Arya allowed her arm to fall away from her sword, she held herself still as Marlon looked her up and down. She was suddenly glad that she had taken Sandor's advice and polished her armour and boots until they shone. She had also taken the lessons learnt from Margery and done her hair into elaborate braids. She had a dragon bone bow and a quiver of arrows on her back, Needle on her right hip and the Valyrian dagger on her left hip. She was slowly starting to look like the warrior princess that she had always wanted to be.

She must have held up to inspection as Ser Marlon finally gave a slow nod and then returned his attention towards her father. "You don't breed them weak at Winterfell, do you?"

"Weak has never been a family trait, however Arya should have used her words, not reached for her blade." Ned replied.

"Nonsense." Marlon disagreed. "I would have done no less. A woman has to fight twice as hard as a man to win respect, and they have to do so in half the time." He turned his attention back to Arya. "Princess Arya, allow me to make you a promise, should anybody refer to your man as the Hound in my presence they will find my blade at their throat."

Arya considered his words. "I'll hold you to that promise." She replied.

"Truly a Stark." Marlon muttered. "Now, enough talk, you must all be hungry and longing for baths, we have horses waiting."

~~/~~

Ser Marlon's comment about Lord Wyman being too fat to ride a horse turned out not to be an exaggeration, the man was huge, and tall with it. His sons, Wylis and Wendel, weren't slim either. Wendel, the youngest son, was the smaller of the three, but still immense. All three men sported large extravagant moustaches. The two brothers were very different in demeanour Wylis was quiet and formal, almost sombre, whereas Wendel was loud and boisterous. Wylis had two daughters, Wynafryd and Wylla. Wynafryd was the older and had dark hair, Wylla had blonde hair, which she dyed green, both girls had their hair bound with pearls. Both girls were older than Arya and it was entertaining to watch them both dismiss Theon's blatant advances, although Wynafryd did seem to have an eye for Robb.

They only stayed one night, there were no boats to take them up the White Knife so they were given supplies and horses before being sent on their way, the Manderly's had promised to follow, stating that as Lord Wyman was too fat to ride a horse they would come when a boat allowed. Even Lord Wyman seemed surprised at the lack of boats, stating it unusual for this time of year. Ned Stark had offered to wait and to travel by boat with them but they had insisted that it was not right to delay him.

~~/~~

The first three days on the road were uneventful, apart from Theon ribbing Robb that Wynafryd seemed to fancy herself a future queen. Robb had always been strongly aware that his station as heir to Winterfell meant he had to second guess any woman's intent, but Theon seemed happy to drive home the point that it would be ten times worse now. It was understandable that Theon was jealous, but he really did push things too far.

About mid-morning on the fourth day the conversation between Robb and Theon flared into a full out argument, harsh truths were spoken and Theon rode on ahead in a sulk, father sent five guards after him. About an hour later they heard yelling and Theon was riding back fast and alone. Arya pulled her attention away from the fishing boats that she had been watching across the river at Theon's approach, he looked frantic and she suddenly realised that there was blood on him.

"Bandits!" Theon yelled. "They took us by surprise!"

Everybody was suddenly on alert. Father rode forward and started talking with Theon in a low voice, then he started barking orders, they would use the river to their advantage, guards lined up between the Starks and the trees and they rode in a tight formation. Arya glanced back at the fishing boats, they were crossing the centre of the river now… why were they crossing the centre of the river? Suddenly she noticed a couple of the fishermen drawing bows! She managed to yell a warning just as the arrows started flying.

Sandor Clegane pulled her from her horse and used himself as a shield, pulling down the simple helm which had replaced the Hound helm he used to wear. Robb and Father were slower, they tried to use their horses as shields but an arrow had caught Father in the right arm on the way down, his sword arm. Suddenly they were surrounded, and their attackers weren't fighting like bandits… they were fighting like soldiers!

 _"You need me."_ The other self whispered as Arya drew Needle.

 _"Yes."_ Arya replied

It was different this time, ever since that day at the Weirwood it had been as if Arya had been split in half, she had believed that to choose a different path she had to separate herself from the older self and the things that the other her had done. She had tried to deny the rage and anger inside of her, she had built a mental wall between the current her and the older self, and this had put her in conflict. It was like living under siege in your own mind. The older self was always there, and had forced herself through on a few occasions but Arya had always driven her back, this time Arya was opening the door and inviting her in.

Instead of hiding from her darkness Arya embraced it, in return the older self assisted instead of trying to take control. Suddenly all the knowledge, all of the training, from the House of Black and White was hers. Her body still had a lot to learn, but her mind knew what to do. The rage burnt for a moment and then turned cold. These were enemies attacking her pack, they would be destroyed, it wasn't personal because they were unimportant. They were nothing, no one, and soon they would be dead. Somewhere south of the Neck Nymeria and her pack howled…

Arya let everything slip away until only three things remained, her pack, the enemy, and her. She flowed like water through the enemy, they were not accustomed to fighting somebody so small and she used that to her advantage. She ducked under blows and between legs, she sidestepped, and even cartwheeled over a dead horse, she turned and twisted, parried and thrusted… suddenly she found herself inside the tree line with no enemies near her. She sheathed her sword and drew her bow, using the trees as cover she started picking off the archers. Once that threat was eliminated she put her bow away and re-joined the fray.

Robb and Theon had three guards with them and there was a guard with father and Sandor, but the rest were dead. Between father's limp and the arrow still sticking out of his sword arm he was slowly getting overwhelmed. There were five attackers on them and eight on Robb and Theon, but Robb had Grey Wind, Arya chose to help father. She took out one man from behind and Sandor took out another, that left three. The guard, Arya didn't know his name, missed his mark, the enemy cut him down and his name no longer mattered.

The other two attackers were rounding on father and Arya and Sandor had dead bodies in the way, but Sandor had long arms, he reached out and managed to get one of the attackers with a lunging shot, standing on a dead man's chest as he went. The sound of the ribs cracking should have been sickening, but in Arya's current head space it meant nothing. The other attacker lunged at father and he stumbled, catching a blow in the side, the sword bit deep into skin and armour alike and for a moment the sigil on the hilt seemed to fill Arya's vison. A flayed man, these were Bolton men!

Father fell down to one knee as Arya advanced, she wasn't sure when she had switched from Needle to the dagger, as the man reached up he exposed a gap in his torn armour near where the kidneys would be and Arya slipped the blade in. He screamed and dropped his sword, he turned and grabbed hold of Arya as she withdrew the blade. Farther managed to slam Ice up into him with both hands and he screamed no more.

Arya turned her gaze towards Robb and Theon as Grey Wind ripped out a man's throat, they were down to one guard now, and four attackers. She turned to Sandor. "Help them." He nodded. She turned towards the fallen horses and started searching through the packs for something to press against the wound. She didn't know who the shirt belonged to as she pressed it against father's side and she didn't care.

~~/~~

Part 34:

Sandor pushed an un-stoppered pouch of wine into Ned's hands muttering "Drink, I ain't no Maester, this is gonna hurt." Father nodded and took a long drink before passing the bottle back. Sandor took a long swig himself before shifting his gaze to Arya. "I'm going to need the help of your small hands, Princess, you're going to need to hold the wound together while I sew it."

Arya nodded. "As long as you're not asking me to sew, the last thing Father needs is crocked stitches." She moved back and let Sander pull the shirt away from the wound. Sandor poured some wine over the gash and then moved Arya's hands where he wanted them and started stitching whilst Robb, Theon and Grey Wind stood guard.

"We need to get to the other side of the river." Ned muttered between grimaces. "Robb, are any of the boats reachable?"

"One's trapped in the reeds." Robb muttered. He sheathed his sword and waded knee deep into the muddy river after it, dragging it to shore. He frowned at the three dead bodies in it then glanced at Arya. "Nice shots, little sister."

"I'd like those arrows back." Arya muttered. "And theirs, we should break the bows and take the swords, no need to make it easy for the Bolton's."

"Bolton's?" Robb muttered in surprise.

Arya gestured with an elbow to one of the fallen swords. "See for yourself."

Robb's frown deepened as he and Theon started taking a better look at the dead men. Finding more and more flayed man sigil's on armour and weapons alike. "Why?" Robb muttered.

Theon gave that cynical laugh of his. "Roose wants to be King." He muttered. "Better question is how."

"Better question is how many men does he have at Winterfell." Ned muttered.

"We'll get there soon eno-" Robb started to say but Ned cut him off.

"No, Winterfell isn't an option, not until we know what we're facing. We can't go back to White Harbor either, Roose's spies would see us. We need to cross the river and head south-west across the farm land to Moat Cail – Augh, Gods that hurts!" he drew a sharp breath as Sandor poured more wine over the wound and rearranged Arya's hands.

"You need to drink and shut up." Sandor muttered pushing the wine back into his hands. "Besides, Moat Cailin is abandoned, and even if it wasn't you couldn't trust who you would find there. Bad plan."

"You don't know the North." Ned muttered. "The Crannogmen have never failed me."

"And House Manderly?" Sandor pushed.

"House Manderly are true… their Maester however… Wyman doesn't trust him." Father replied.

"Why?" It was Robb that asked this time.

Ned gave a bitter laugh. "He's from Lannisport, Wyman doesn't believe he stopped being a Lannister when he took his Maester's vows."

"Lord Manderly sounds like a smart man." Sandor replied. "That's the best I can do."

Arya watched as Robb and Theon helped father into the boat. Robb and Sandor took him across the river while Theon and Arya started sorting the gear, Grey Wind keeping watch.

~~/~~

The first few huts were empty, it looked as if people had left in a hurry, but as they searched for supplies they soon found the bodies. They found a bull in one of the fields, one of the few animals that hadn't been butchered and left to rot, but the three arrows sticking out of him suggested it hadn't been for lack of trying. The animal was angry and wild, but they needed a way to carry Father, Arya decided that it would be a chance to practice skin-changing.

She thought of Nymeria and how it felt when she warged into her, and suddenly she was running with the pack, they were heading north, coming to help. She came back to herself and found that she was clutching at the fence in front of her. She thought of the bull in front of her, of the curve of his horns… she thought of Gendry's helm, stupid bull… she brought her mind back to the task at hand and closed her eyes. Suddenly she could feel the bull, feel his rage, his pain. He wanted the arrows out, silently she promised him that she would do that if he helped her. Slowly he started walking across the paddock towards them.

She waited until he was right in front of her to reach out her hand. He let her stroke his head, she kept the fence between them as he moved so that she could get to the arrows. She let him know that it was going to hurt, she stroked his muscled back gently and then inspected the first arrow. Everybody watched in shock as he let her remove the arrows. Once she was done she jumped the fence and started patting him, hugging him, talking to him in a gentle voice. As to what he understood she would never really know, but within the hour they had father and half of their gear on his back and he was letting Arya lead him across the field.

They travelled mostly at night and hid during the day, they avoided farm houses and cottages and didn't light any fires. Father's condition deteriorated but they couldn't take the risk. The towers of Moat Cailin had been visible for two days when Nymeria lead three Crannogmen to them. All Crannogmen were short and these three were no exception. They were lean, dressed in greens and browns, all three had round leather shields. The one on the right had a frogspear and the one on the left had a trident, the one in the middle had a simple spear and a sword, all three had bronze knives on their belts. The one in the middle had a lizard-lion belt buckle and green eyes.

"Howland." Father muttered, trying to push himself into a sitting position.

"My Lord." Howland Reed replied, he gestured to Nymeria. "Knew this one and her strange pack could only mean one thing, whom are we at war with this time?"

"Bolton's." Ned replied with a scowl.

Howland nodded. "Let's get you to camp and let the healers take a look at you. We can talk once you've eaten."

Nymeria pushed past them and approached Arya, they stood facing each other for a few moments and then Arya hugged her wolf-sister tightly. "Thank you." She whispered.

~~/~~

Part 35:

Arya sighed and ran her fingers through Nymeria's fur, the direwolf was almost as large as a horse now, bigger than Grey Wind. Arya moved into a more comfortable position and caught Robb's gaze across the fire, he gave her the slightest of nods as he moved closer to Grey Wind. There had been no conversation, but both knew what needed to happen, they needed to know what was waiting for them at Winterfell.

Arya closed her eyes and thought of the feel of Nymeria's fur, the scent of her, it was easier with the direwolf curled up beside her. Arya reached out with her mind, she thought of Grey Wind and Rob across the fire, she thought of home, of the great Weirwood… she thought of the black pool, the water always cold even on the warmest of days, the death unknown. She thought of Lady, the smallest of the direwolves, and then she thought of Sansa.

Sansa was in her night dress, she looked dazed and confused as she walked barefoot across the gods-wood. "Arya, what the… Robb!" Sansa rushed to Robb and hugged him. "What's going on, how? What am I doing here, and when did you get home?"

Robb gave Sansa a gentle smile. "Magic, sweet sister."

"But how?" Sansa asked.

"It's something to do with our connection to the direwolves -" Arya started to explain but Sansa cut her off.

"Shut up, horse-face, I was talking to Robb." Sansa snapped.

"Sansa, it's Arya's magic, we might all be able to work out how to do it in time but she learned it first."

Sansa looked at Robb then looked at Arya in shock. "Arya has magic?" Robb nodded. Sansa rolled her eyes. "Well that explains a lot, I always knew there was something wrong with her."

"Sansa…" Robb sighed.

Arya just shrugged and pretended that she didn't care. "It's okay, Robb, I'll keep the link going, you talk to her." Arya sat on the fallen tree trunk that Farther always sat on and gazed into the surface of the black pool.

Robb was far more patient with Sansa than Arya could have been, for the first ten minutes all Sansa wanted to talk about was confirming that she was now a princess, Robb let her chatter and talk for a while, then he asked after mother and how things were at home. The more Sansa spoke the more she confirmed what a fool she was, Arya was quite disappointed to discover however that Mother had been taken in by Roose's deception as well.

Bran had snuck off with Hodor and the wildling Osha, which Arya had known he had to do, but Roose had convinced Mother that he had been taken by force. Sansa talked about how generous and kind Roose was for using his own men to bolster the guard at Winterfell, about how he had given her four personal guards of her own, some of his best men. One of them was even a knight… and wasn't that fitting for a princess?

Sansa talked about how Lady and Shaggy Dog had been misbehaving lately and they had started keeping the direwolves in the kennels, Robb tried to convince her to keep Lady by her side and Shaggy Dog with Rickon, but she wouldn't hear it. From the sounds of it Mother had handed complete control of Winterfell over to Roose without even the slightest of hesitation.

And the more Sansa talked about how she was being treated like a proper princess the more Arya thought of Old Nan's stories. About how the princesses of the Warg King and the Marsh King had been married into House Stark when they had been defeated, they may or may not have been treated well, but the marriages were by force. Arya though of how Argella Durrandon was delivered to Orys Baratheon, naked and bound, after Orys's defeat of the last Storm King, Argilac the Arrogant. Of course Roose was treating Sansa well, she was the key to the north, the more submissive he could keep her the better. And this time around Roose didn't have a Frey wife, he wouldn't give Sansa to Ramsay, he'd keep her for himself… which meant that if he caught Arya… oh gods!

Once Robb was finished talking to Sansa he hugged her tightly and said goodbye, Sansa walked away without even a word to Arya. Robb came and sat beside Arya and they talked about what Sansa had told him. Arya explained to Robb that Bran had to find the Children of the Forest and that Jojen and Meera Reed would help him. She carefully omitted the fact that the Children were on the other side of the Wall.

It seemed that they had both reached the same conclusions about what Roose was up to. But they had very different ideas about what to do about it. The argument started in the dream plane of the gods-wood, but Arya angrily walking away caused both of them to wake up mid argument.

Arya blinked and took in her surroundings but she wasn't backing down. "I am not running and hiding whilst you fight for our home!" She yelled at Robb.

"Damn it, Arya, he already has Sansa, if he gets his hands on you…"

Arya pushed herself to her feet. "I know exactly what will happen to me if Roose Bolton takes me prisoner." She yelled. "I know better than you do! He'll force me to marry Ramsay, whom he will legitimise, and then Ramsay will proceed to rape me, and cut me, and keep me locked in a room until either he kills me or I kill him!"

Robb was also standing now. "That's why we need to hide you before we take back Winterfell!" He yelled back.

"I'm not hiding!"

Robb rounded the fire until he was in front of her. "Arya, please." Arya suddenly realised that there were tears in his eyes. "Let the Crannogmen take you back to Greywater Watch, let me protect you, I'll get our home back."

"And if you can't?" Arya asked.

"Then get them to sneak you back to Dragonstone and raise an army, use your skills to make a deal with the King beyond the Wall through Jon, attack from the south and the north at once and destroy them! But in that plan Mother, Sansa, and Rickon all die! Let me try to do it my way first!"

The whole camp was watching them now. And, as much as Arya hated to admit it, Robb had a point. But he was overlooking one thing, Roose still had the Dreadfort, he could have an army there for all they knew. "Okay." She agreed. "I'll let you take back Winterfell without me."

"I have your word?" Robb asked.

"Yes." She agreed. _'But I haven't given my word that I will go to Greywater Watch.'_ She thought.

~~/~~

"You're up to something." Sandor said quietly as they watched Robb, Theon and Howland leave with an army of Crannogmen.

"What makes you say that?" Arya asked as innocently as she could. They were far enough from the two dozen or so Crannogmen who had been left behind not to be heard but she still kept her voice low.

Sandor gave her a look that was something between amusement and frustration. "You're accepting this far too easily, which either means that I've over estimated you, or that you have no intent to go to Greywater Watch."

"Father is very sick." Arya replied.

"Yes, he is, and they will take him back to Greywater Watch and try and get him well, but that bull and that direwolf haven't moved more than ten feet from you since last night, which means they are better informed than I am. Could you have warned me that you were a damn greenseer before I swore to you?" Sandor kept his voice low to make sure that he wasn't overheard, but the edge of frustration was still clear.

Arya sighed. "Would you have believed me?"

Sandor shrugged and then shook his head. "Probably not, but you could have warned me all the same. Are you going to let me in on the plan?"

"Not yet." Arya replied. "They need a head start, besides, we're not going to Winterfell."

"Okay, where are we going?" Sandor asked, keeping his voice low.

"We're going to take the Dreadfort while Roose is distracted." Arya replied calmly.

Sandor sucked in a sharp breath of air. "You really are insane." He whispered quietly.

"Maybe." Arya agreed. "You don't have to come with me, you can always stay with the Crannogmen and guard Father."

"Like hells." Sandor muttered. "You think I'm missing out on a fight like that?" He frowned for a moment, seeming to consider their options. "Your brother took most of the horses."

"We don't need horses." Arya replied calmly. "You're going to be riding the bull."

"I… what?!" Sandor replied louder than Arya would have liked.

"He has lost his herd, they tried to kill him too but he was too strong. He is angry and he wants revenge, I promised him that you would help him get it, he'll let you ride him." She replied calmly.

"So, you'll be riding that damn direwolf?" Sandor replied.

Arya nodded. "Yes."

"Gods, win or lose, this is going to be interesting. Does the bull have a name?"

Arya smiled, the part of her that remembered the other life remembered the big black horse that Sandor had acquired after escaping from the brotherhood. She looked at the bull, and decided that the name was equally appropriate here. "How about Stranger?"

Sandor looked at her, shook his head then walked over to the bull. "Okay, Stranger, let's talk. It's time to lay down some ground rules… If you are going to be my mount then you are only my mount. You will not let anybody else ride you, if anybody else tries to take you I expect you to bite off their face… and their fingers… and stab them with those horns of yours."

Arya sat back and watched as Sandor kept talking to the bull. Nymeria nudged her then looked at  
Tiny, the small lap dog that would never be able to keep up. "Yes, I know." Arya said quietly. "We'll have to send him with Father." She picked up the small dog and walked over to where Ned was resting. "A friend to keep you company." She said putting the little dog down beside him.

Father frowned. "I never did understand little dogs." He muttered quietly.

"Me neither." Arya agreed. "But his owner got bored with him and abandoned him, Nymeria saved him, maybe Jyana Reed could give him a home?"

Father nodded and stroked the little dog. "Maybe you can ask her when we get there?"

Arya sat down beside her father and nodded. "Maybe." She agreed. She sat and talked with him until he grew tired. She wanted him to get better, but in her heart she knew that he was dying. The only reason that they were taking him to Greywater Watch was so that if Robb did fail Roose couldn't confirm when Father was dead. The Crannogmen would hide his body long enough to buy Arya some time.

~~/~~


	8. Chapters 36 - 40

Part 36:

Sandor rolled the ends of a blanket around two lengths of rope and tied the two lengths of rope around the bull making a makeshift saddle. He then tied their two bed rolls to loops on the back rope. He proceeded to tie the gear that he and Arya had deemed unimportant to another rope which he tied across two loops at the front of the saddle with a quick release knot at each end, in truth they would not be taking anything with them that they could not justify or carry.

Arya had put everything that she truly wanted to keep into her shoulder bag. There had been some tough decisions, she had added and then removed the yellow fabric which Elenei Waters had given her before finally deciding to keep it. If she left it behind there was no guarantee that she would get it back… and she still remembered how hard the young tailor punched… she still had no idea what she was going to do with it, but it was somehow precious to her.

She had put the large cloak on to hide her yellow and black armour, and to make room for the yellow fabric. She tried slinging her bow and quiver over the cloak but it was awkward, she needed to find another way to carry them as she wasn't leaving weapons behind.

She rolled the heads of five arrows in a piece of cloth and shoved them into the front of her left boot making a knee guard, after testing it for a couple of steps, and making sure that she could draw the arrows easily, she did the same with her right boot. Deciding that she was happy with it she strapped the full quiver to her shoulder bag and put as many extra arrows as she could fit into the bag itself. Without the quiver the bow was a lot more comfortable.

"Preparing for war, little wolf?" One of the Crannogmen who had been watching her asked quietly.

"We're already at war." She replied. "I'm not getting ambushed again."

The man laughed. "Spoken like a Stark." He muttered and went back to what he had been doing.

Arya smiled. The night before Howland Reed had called her a lady once. She had replied by telling him she wasn't a lady, and if anybody thought that they were taking her sword out of her hand when they named her a princess they had another thing coming. He had responded with "As you wish, little wolf." And the name had stuck, another unofficial title for the list.

They moved slowly south, Arya stayed as close to the cart carrying Father as she could. His wound had become badly infected and he had a fever, Sandor's quick stitching had stopped him from bleeding to death but little more. Before they had set out Arya had watched as one of the Crannogmen, Bracken Greenwater, had changed the poultice. The skin around the wound was red and angry, Arya had held her father's hand as Bracken had squeezed puss out of the wound before applying the fresh poultice. The sweet fragrance of the herbs unable to completely mask the stink of the wound.

Arya was torn, every second that they went the wrong way took them further from their objective, but she was suddenly loath to leave her father's side. Sandor made no comment, he simply led the bull and followed Arya's lead, it was a little disconcerting knowing that he had complete faith in her plan.

They stopped at midday and cooked some rabbits with roots, herbs and eatable leafs. The Crannogmen skinned the rabbits easily and rubbed the undersides of the skins with salt so that the pelts would not turn. Arya watched as Bracken pulled a half-burnt stick from the fire and put it out. He pulled a bronze knife and scrapped some of the charcoal into a small stone bowl before returning the stick to the fire.

"What are you doing?" She asked curiously.

"Your father's infection is getting worse." Bracken said quietly. "I'm making a charcoal based poultice, it is more aggressive but the charcoal makes most herbs ineffectual."

"Will it work?" Arya asked.

Bracken looked up at her sadly. "Only the Gods can say for sure."

Arya nodded. "He's dying." She said quietly.

"Perhaps, but Lord Stark is one of the most stubborn men I have ever met, do not give up on him yet little wolf."

"Stubbornness won't save him." Arya said quietly and walked away. She moved a little way from the group and practiced her water dancing while she waited for the food to be ready. She decided that they would make their move after they had eaten, but before there was time for the Crannogmen to break camp. When the food was ready she sat beside her father and cut the rabbit and roots into small pieces to make it easier for him to eat.

"Am I so weak that my baby girl has to cut my food for me?" Ned Stark muttered dryly, but he accepted her help.

Arya looked at him wordlessly for a few seconds unsure what to reply. She finally decided to go with the truth. "You're dying." She replied quietly. "They're doing everything they can to help you, but you're still dying."

Ned forced himself into a sitting position, wincing in pain as he did so. "Arya…"

Arya shook her head and moved back. "Don't lie to me, you know you're dying! I'm not just some stupid little girl, I know death, and I know a dying man when I see one." She swiped angrily at the hot tears running down her face.

Ned reached out and touched her face, wiping away some of her tears with his thumb. "Gods, you are so much like Lyanna sometimes, always needing the truth, no matter how unpalatable it is. Yes, I may be dying, but I'm not dead yet. The Gods may still save me."

"There's only one god." Arya said quietly. "The god of death."

"Well he's not taking me today." Ned replied firmly.

Arya nodded, they sat and ate quietly for a while. Once Arya had finished she reached over and hugged him. "I love you." She whispered and pulled away.

Ned caught her wrist as she pulled back. "Arya? The last time you hugged me like that and said you loved me you were saying goodbye…" Arya nodded. "Talk to me." He pleaded.

Arya looked at him carefully. "Do you trust me, father?"

"Yes." Ned answered.

"Then I need you to trust that I know what I'm doing, I'm not going with you to Greywater Watch, and I'm not going after Robb to Winterfell, there is somewhere else I need to be… something else I need to do."

Ned let go of her wrist. "Arya, talk to me, what are you planning? Maybe the Crannogmen can help you?"

"They can't help me." Arya replied quietly. "They won't be able to keep up."

"Arya, I won't let-"

"I'm not asking for your permission." Arya replied firmly. "I wasn't asking for your permission when I saved your life at Kings Landing, or Sansa's. I wasn't asking for your permission when I saved Gendry and his siblings lives. I wasn't asking for your permission when I saved Renly's life, and I'm not asking for your permission now. I know where I am needed and I will not walk another step in the wrong direction. I love you, but this is not my path." She felt Nymeria approach and reached out a hand to the direwolf without turning her head. She heard the clunk of gear falling to the ground somewhere near where the bull had been standing. "Look after Tiny for Nymeria and stay alive. You can yell at me later, but this is what I need to do."

Without another word she hoisted herself onto Nymeria's back and clung on tightly. Nymeria turned and started to run back the way that they had come, Arya could feel the pack and the bull behind her, she could hear the yell of Crannogmen as the bull lowered its horns and charged, Sandor on its back. She lowered her head and clung on tightly to Nymeria's fur, closing her eyes, but she could still see through the eyes of the pack and the eyes of the bull. She could see the commotion around Father through Tiny's eyes, could hear when he told the Crannogmen who had started after her to stop.

"Damn wolf-blood," Father muttered. "You won't stop her." He picked Tiny up and the small dog licked his face. "Looks like we've both been left behind." He muttered. He then ordered the men to pack up camp and continue towards Greywater Watch.

~~/~~

Part 37:

Arya looked at the White Knife through a dozen sets of eyes, not one of them her own, the pack had fanned out over a couple of miles looking for the best place to cross but it seemed hopeless. There was one bridge, guarded by at least six Bolton men on either side. Every boat along the way was destroyed, every hut empty, the Bolton's had been thorough. There was one place where the river was wider than normal so flowed slower, but how to get across? The dogs and wolves could swim, even Stranger (the bull) could swim, but if Sandor came off… They spent the evening arguing about it, the next morning they headed towards the wider part of the river.

"I still think we should have tried our luck at the bridge." Sandor complained as he tied a rope around himself then tied it to the bull. They had fastened all of their gear to the back of the bull so that he had plenty of hand holds on the front. Arya had removed her cloak, bag and bow so that she had nothing to put her off balance.

Arya shook her head. "Even if we had succeeded we would have lost the element of surprise."

"Fuck the element of surprise," Sandor complained. "I'd rather die with a sword in my hand than drown in my armour, and why do I have all of the gear?"

"Because you're on the bull." Arya replied. "You could always take the armour off before we cross."

"And what good would that do me?" Sandor growled. "I can't fucken swim!"

Arya shrugged. "Nobody is making you come with me, you can always head back to the Neck and stay with Father."

"Like hells, girl, I gave my word and I'm keeping it. I ain't no coward, I just wish we had a better plan."

"Well we don't." Arya retorted. "So either come up with a better plan or shut up and start crossing."

Sandor glared at her. "You're going to make some unlucky man a strong wife one day, you know that." His glare turned to a smirk. "Most likely Gendry, if Renly has his way."

"Shut up!" Arya retorted and jumped onto Nymeria's back, she started crossing the river leaving a smirking Sandor behind her.

"Oh, c'mon, Gendry idolises you." Sandor shouted back from behind her, he slowly started riding Stranger into the water.

"He does not." Arya shouted back. Sandor was being stupid, Gendry didn't feel anything for her. But at least the argument had taken Sandor's mind off of his concerns about crossing the river, she decided that keeping the conversation going would be the best way to get him across safely. "Why aren't you married, anyway? You're old enough."

Sandor let out a bitter laugh. "And who would wanna marry an ugly fucker like me?"

Arya shrugged. "Somebody who's not shallow and stupid. You're strong, you're a good fighter, you won the Tournament of the Hand and saved Ser Loras' life."

"Would you marry me?" Sandor challenged.

"You're a little old for me." Arya replied screwing up her face.

"I've seen worse matches." Sandor replied. "But that's usually about money or power."

"If they defeat your brother you'll be landed soon." Arya said thoughtfully. "You'll need a wife then."

"Fuck that." Sandor replied. "They can give it to somebody else."

Arya turned to look at him. "And will somebody else make sure that the people dependant on that Lord are ready for winter? Do you really think that your brother cares how many peasants starve or freeze to death? It's your duty!"

Sandor might have replied but Nymeria got caught by an unexpected current and Arya lost her balance. Sandor lunged after her and only the rope around his waist stopped him from falling off of Stranger, his fingertips brushed over her arm but he couldn't grab her. The current pulled Arya under the water and she was caught with her mouth open as her head went under…

~~/~~

 _Arya was seven and Bran was six, they had run away from Old Nan and were in the godswood practicing their sword fighting with sticks, they were at the edge of the black pool, close to the Heart Tree. Bran lunged at Arya with a series of blows but she blocked every one of them, she counter attacked, driving him to the edge of the black pool, she expected him to turn to the side and was trying to anticipate if he would go left or right but he lost track of his footing and fell into the pool instead._

 _Arya laughed, she expected Bran to come up any second, but he didn't. Soon she started to panic, she moved to the edge of the pool and looked down, suddenly his hand shot out of the water and he grabbed her foot pulling her into the pool with him. They played in the pool until they were shaking, each challenging the other to go deeper and deeper, but they never came close to reaching the bottom. Once they were completely frozen they raced each other to the hot-pools…_

~~/~~

 _Jon was twelve and Arya was six, Jon was missing. Mother had yelled at him for something at breakfast and he had taken off, it was mid-afternoon and still nobody could find him. Arya found herself at the glass gardens, she was supposed to be at needlework with Sansa and the other girls, but they were all older than her and she hated it, and Jon was still missing! She had already tried the library and the stables. She found Jon curled up asleep in the middle of the pale blue winter roses, covered in scratches. She put her small hand on his shoulder and woke him gently, as he sat up his head knocked a branch and pale blue rose petals showered over both of them making her giggle. He pulled her into his lap and smiled._

 _"You still sad?" Young Arya asked, touching his face._

 _"No." Jon replied. "How can I be sad when you're smiling at me?"_

 _Arya picked up a rose petal. "Pretty." She muttered._

 _"Blue winter roses, frost roses, they only grow at Winterfell, did you know that?" Jon asked. Arya shook her head, she loved it when Jon taught her things, he often hid from mother in the library so he did a lot of reading. "The old names for them are Rhosyn-glas or Rhosyn-rhew." Jon told her._

 _Arya repeated the names back to him over and over again until she said them right. Well, she managed to say Rhosyn-glas right, but she kept saying Rhosyn-whoo and throwing her arms up into the air and giggling. After a while Jon's smiling face turned serious._

 _"We better get you back before people get angry." He said quietly._

 _Arya nodded and crawled out from under the roses, Jon soon followed. She hated how quickly the smile could slip off of his face. But when she turned back towards him he had that gentle smile back again and a rose in his hand that he had picked for her. When he bent down and gave it to her she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. They were less than ten steps from the glass gardens when Mother and Septa Mordane came into sight. Mother held Jon with a look that made him cringe but before she could speak Arya offered her the rose._

 _"Rhosyn-glas." She said confidently._

 _Mother's jaw dropped and Septa Mordane smiled. "Yes." She agreed. "That is the firstmen's name for them."_

 _Mother's anger at Jon was forgotten as she turned her attention to Arya. "Let's go put this in some water and get you cleaned up, shall we? You're covered in dirt."_

 _Arya nodded. "Rhosyn-glas." She repeated proudly. As she was led away she looked back at Jon, he gave her a sad smile and turned towards the godswood. That was good, that was where Robb and Theon were looking._

 _"Arya," Septa Mordane said pulling her attention back. "Did you know that glas can mean blue or grey?"_

~~/~~

The current had pulled Arya under, she could feel her lungs were full of water but for some reason she wasn't drowning. She grabbed hold of a reed and somehow managed to get her feet onto the bottom of the river. She just stood there in shock holding onto the reed and watched as a fish swam past her. Moments later Nymeria was in front of her, she wrapped her arms around the direwolf's neck, Nymeria carried her up to the surface and as her head broke free of the river she spat up the water from her lungs and took a breath of fresh air. She looked down at the charm on her right wrist in shock, she had actually been breathing water! ' _Maybe now I can find out what is at the bottom of the black pool?'_ She thought.

Sandor was already on the far bank, looking panicked and helpless, when she came to shore. She shook her head like a dog, clearing some of the water from her face and smiled.

"I told you it was a stupid fucken idea!" He roared at her. "You nearly drowned and there was nothing I could fucken do about it!"

"I'm fine." Arya said calmly. "Just needed a bath."

"A bath?!" He retorted. "Well you had a damn good one! You've been underwater for over ten minutes, how are you not dead?!"

"Water magic." Arya replied calmly and shrugged. She showed Sandor the charm on her wrist. "Monford Velaryon said this would keep me safe when I was at sea, but I guess it does more than that."

Sandor swallowed thickly. "Is it crazy that I actually believe you?" He asked quietly. "Seven hells, water magic, what's next? No, I don't want to know." He stalked away from her and started leading Stranger into the trees.

~~/~~

They moved away from the road for about an hour and then Sandor built a fire, the smoke was a risk but Arya was still soaking so she didn't complain. Nymeria set some of the pack to keep watch and some of the pack to hunt, or was it Arya who made those decisions? She shrugged the thought off and started removing her wet armour. She frowned as Sandor turned away.

"What's wrong now?" She muttered.

"You're clothes are clinging to you and… you're starting to become a woman." Sandor muttered. He sounded embarrassed.

Arya looked down at her small breasts, they had started developing when she was nine but she had never really paid attention to them, Sansa had started developing young too. Since Sandor's back was turned she decided to strip off completely and change her clothes. "You can turn back now, not that I'm much to look at." She muttered once she was dressed. She sat by the fire and un-braided her hair so that it would dry.

They spent the rest of the day and the night camped there waiting for the gear to dry out. Despite the fire nobody came looking for them, likely Robb had the Bolton's attention on Winterfell by now. Arya wasn't sure if that was good news or bad news? She drifted off to sleep playing the day's events over in her head, the fingers of her left hand absently tracing over the charm on her right wrist, could she really breath underwater now or had she just imagined it? And more importantly, why had she had a memory of swimming in the black pool and then a memory of Jon surrounded by winter roses? "Rhosyn-glas." She muttered to herself just before she drifted off to sleep.

~~/~~

Part 38:

It took two weeks to get near Hornwood, deep in the Hornwood forest, Arya had hoped to find aid there, having learnt from Harvest feasts passed that there was no love lost between the two houses. However the house's sigil, a brown bullmoose with black antlers on orange, was nowhere to be seen and the Bolton's flayed man banners had taken their place. It appeared that the Hornwood's had already fought and lost the battle. Thinking back she realised with horror that Roose Bolton had taken the same ship back to White Harbor as Halys Hornwood and that Halys' son and heir, Daryn Hornwood, had been with him.

They and their men would have taken the same road up the White Knife and it would not have been too difficult for Bolton to arrange an ambush or an accident. Or perhaps Ramsay had quietly taken the Keep whilst Halys was at war and the Lord had returned home to a trap? It didn't matter, either way they would find no aid here. She knew that Halys also had a natural son (bastard), named Larence Snow, in the care of Galbart Glover and she could only hope that the young man had stayed at Deepwood Motte and well out of the Bolton's reach. She absently wondered how hard it would be to get Larence legitimised if his father and half-brother were dead. But that was a question for another day. They snuck by the holdfast in the late evening, using the forest as cover, the enemy never even knew that they were there.

They stayed off of the road and avoided any dwelling that they encountered, picking their way through the forest. Some of the dogs and wolves would stray close to the road, through their eyes Arya saw battalions of men, bearing the standards of House Bolton, heading west towards Winterfell. That either meant that the battle was still going or that Winterfell had fallen and they were gathering strength.

She knew that she could contact Robb through their wolves and find out, or even reach out to Lady and Sansa, but she was reluctant to learn the truth until her mission was completed and so avoided thinking too deeply about Grey Wind or Robb. Similarly she did not yet wish to know her father's fate and so had kept her mind away from Tiny. She needed to focus on the problem at hand. Occasionally her thoughts would pull towards Ghost and Jon, strong emotions constantly rolled off of both of them, but she resisted even this. Her thoughts moved to Bran and Summer, Meera and Jojen were with them, as were Hodor and Osha. They hadn't crossed the Wall yet, but they would soon enough. Arya warned them to avoid Craster's Keep and left them be. After that Arya closed herself off to all but the immediate pack and Stranger.

She still didn't quite know what her plan was, but she knew if she could just get a look inside she would be able to find a weakness, the question was how? As much as she hated the idea One-eye was her best chance, the hound was large and the missing part of his face made him look monstrous, the question was how to get Ramsay to claim him and take him inside?

A week and a half later the Dreadfort came into view. They watched the fort for three days, learning the watches and the changing of the guards, late on the third day a terrified looking blonde woman in torn clothing scrambled out of the gate running for her life. About an hour later a hunting party of five men and one brunette woman followed, it was clear to Arya which one was Ramsay. Arya realised with a sickening feeling that this was sport to them. She had been keeping track of the blonde woman through the pack, thinking to help her, but now she made the pack draw back, all but One-eye.

Arya felt sick to the stomach as the plan formed in her head, but the blonde woman was already doomed, Arya had other lives she needed to save, her brothers and sister, her mother, and many more. Nymeria's brothers and sister amongst them. One-eye was careful, Arya made sure that the hound understood that although the blonde woman was prey the hound was not to kill her until commanded. She drew the rest of the pack back for fear that their scents would betray them, but this left her mostly blind. Arya found herself wishing that there was some other way that she could watch.

Suddenly Arya became aware of a grey-headed Kestrel (a small breed of falcon that seemed to be able to hover in the air even with no wind) hunting rabbits. She reached out with her mind, the Kestrel resisted her attempt to skin-change it at first, shrieking and flying high up into the air, but she was the greater predator and her mind won. She forced the bird back down and made it go where she needed to see. The bird managed to catch the slightest of breezes and float on them, it was both strange and at the same time familiar.

Arya's mind was drawn back to the night that the shadow demon had attacked Renly… of what had happened _after_ she had slammed the Valyrian dagger into the candle and allowed the flames to taste her skin. Then she had been a brutal winter wind, cold and vengeful, now, in the Kestrel, she was able to turn into even the slightest of breezes and use it to her advantage. She swooped and hovered in turn, her mind struggling to adjust to the birds senses and strange eyesight.

She found it harder to reach the pack whilst in the birds mind. Dogs, wolves and direwolves think more like humans do. Food, shelter, pack, prey. Birds see prey and predator, opportunity and over expenditure, they do not even perceive danger the same way… and the bird did not want her in its mind!

In her struggle with the Kestrel Arya almost missed her opportunity, Ramsay and his men had the blonde woman trapped and the brunette woman had already put an arrow in her leg. They were taunting her when Arya gave One-eye the silent command. One-eye sprang from his hiding place and tore out the closest hounds throat first, and then the blonde woman's throat, the other hounds started rounding in on him but Ramsay ordered them to stay. The brunette fired an arrow at One-eye but he dodged it, the Kestrel squawked and flew straight at the brunette woman, peaking at her and causing her to drop her bow.

"I said _stay._ " Ramsay snapped at the woman. She pouted at him. "Sit." Ramsay commanded, all of his hounds sat, the brunette quickly dropped to the ground beside her bow and sat as well. One-eye sat beside his kills panting and looking up at Ramsay proudly, his mouth slick with the warm sweet taste of blood.

Ramsay approached One-eye carefully, the hound licked the blood from around his mouth and panted happily. "Well look at you." Ramsay said with intrigue as he approached. "That was one of my best hounds you just killed, and you stole my prize… where's your master?"

One-eye cocked his head to the side and wagged his tail, his tongue lolling out. The brunette woman rose to her feet and slowly stated sauntering towards Ramsay. The woman wasn't overly pretty, she was thin and small breasted, but her leather clothing was suggestively tight and her neckline was plunging. If she hadn't been so flat chested the outfit would have made her look like a whore. Instead she just looked like exactly what she was, one of Ramsay's toys. Her mousy-brown hair was mostly loose with just the sides being pulled back from her face.

"Looks like he'd like _you_ to be his master." The woman said in a salutary voice as she slid up beside him.

"Myranda, I'm trying to have an intelligent conversation here, be silent." Ramsay reprimanded.

"Yes, _master_." Myranda replied, trying to sound sultry.

Ramsay slapped her, hard, then grabbed her by the throat, chocking her. "Do not force me to repeat myself." He snarled, then he kissed her, hard on the mouth, all the while still chocking her. A few seconds later he released her, throwing her to the ground. Myranda sat where she had landed and waited. Ramsay turned his attention back to One-eye.

"I do apologise," he told the hound. "I do so _hate_ being interrupted." He snapped his fingers and One-eye sprang up and looked at him. "Well somebody trained you, you're quite the hideous thing, aren't you, is that why your master cast you out?" Ramsay muttered, he chuckled to himself. "I have developed quite a taste for hideous things… as long as they obey."

He took One-eye through a number of commands including beg, sit, lie down and roll over. One-eye obeyed every command. Seemingly satisfied, Ramsay turned away from One-eye and started walking back towards the Dreadfort. Ramsay clicked his tongue and all of the hounds fell in behind him, One-eye fell in with them as well.

Arya noticed from the perspective of the Kestrel that Myranda also stood when Ramsay clicked his tongue. The woman approached with the caution of a beaten dog, Ramsay cast her a glance and slapped his thigh twice, she came to his side like a dog coming to heal, and lent into him looking for affection. He patted her rump then gave it a squeeze.

"That was an interesting hunt." He murmured quietly.

"I thought you were going to let the hounds eat Violet, you haven't feed them in four days." Myranda pouted, seemingly disappointed.

"I was." Ramsay replied thoughtfully. "But I changed my mind, they can eat tomorrow, if the new hound can survive the night with them hungry I will keep him… I think I'll name him Kyra."

Myranda frowned. "But the one he's replacing was called Kyra, she was one of my favourites." She whined.

"Yes." Ramsay agreed. "But she failed me, I like this Kyra better."

"And you like me better than Violet?" Myranda asked.

Ramsay froze. " _That_ was a boring question, ask it again and I'll find myself a _new_ Myranda." He replied with a dangerous expression on his face.

Myranda gave him a bright smile that didn't meet her eyes. "It was a joke." She replied. "I promise you, _I_ will never bore you."

"Prove it." Ramsay growled. Myranda's smile became a crooked smirk and she dropped to her knees, not caring that the other four men were watching. She tore open her top then stated nuzzling her head against Ramsay's groined suggestively and making puppy-dog eyes, whimpering softly as she did so. "That's a good little bitch." Ramsay muttered as he placed his hand on her head.

Arya's attention was drawn away from them as she felt her control over the Kestrel slipping, the falcon was hungry and there was fresh meat to be had. The bird landed on the dead woman's head and started pecking out one of her eyes, it burst with a soft pop exposing the goo within. The bird got a good mouthful of the gelatinous mass before Arya's mind was able to completely withdraw, the sounds of moaning and whimpering, and the jeering of the other men, loud in the background. Slowly the forest around Arya came back into focus, to withdraw from the bird she had needed to withdraw from the pack and Stranger as well. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was short of breath, she suddenly realised that she was shaking.

"What's wrong now?" Sandor asked in a harsh whisper from his watchful position.

"I now know what warm human eyeballs taste like to birds." Arya replied quietly. Yes she knew, it had tasted _good_. It had tasted so good that she had wanted to eat more of it. She felt like her skin was buzzing, the first taste, when One-eye had ripped out the woman's throat had been good, but this had been better! The thought scared her.

Sandor shook his head. "Why do I even ask?" He muttered to himself before returning his attention back to her. "Do we at least have a plan?"

"We're getting there." Arya replied. She tentatively let her mind reach out to the pack again, Nymeria reassured her that she was paying attention to everything that One-eye could see, Arya sent Nymeria a silent thank you and pulled back from the pack, she needed her mind to herself for a while, to hear and see with only her own senses. "Ramsay adopted One-eye as one of his hounds, so we can get a better idea of what we're up against through what One-eye sees and hears."

Sandor frowned. "If you can see through the eyes of a bird why not just use that?" He asked, confused.

Arya shuddered, it had been very disorientating trying to get into the mind of that bird, it had certainly not been a pleasant experience. "No, if I never have to enter the mind of a bird again it will still be too soon." She whispered.

Sandor's frown deepened, he ran a concerned eye over her, again reminding her that he was a much better person than he pretended to be. "You look flushed, you should eat something." He muttered.

Arya shook her head, she hadn't eaten in hours but strangely she wasn't hungry… she felt strangely energised and her skin was tingling. "No." She replied, the sweet taste of warm human eyeball still sliding over her tongue. "I'm not hungry."

Sandor thrust a water skin at her, or was it a wine skin? "At least drink something then." He muttered. Arya unstopped the skin and sniffed it suspiciously. "It's water." Sandor reassured her. "We've been out of wine for a while now."

"And you haven't even complained." Arya mused.

"No point." Sandor replied with a snort.

~~/~~

Part 39:

 _"There is only one god, his name is death, and there is only one thing that we say to the god of death… not today." Syrio Forel told her. They were back at Kings Landing, in the Tower of the Hand, the floor was scattered with red leaves, and Nymeria's pack surrounded them. Instead of wooden training swords they each held bloody bones, with clumps of flesh still attached. The bones looked as though they had come from a person's leg, but the person would have had to be a giant. As they sparred lumps of flesh flew off of the bones, members of Nymeria's pack quickly running to eat the meat where it fell…_

 _"Death is certain, the timing is not. A minute, an hour, a month..." Jaqen H'ghar told her. He was dressed in Lannister armour and she was fetching water, but when she took the lid off of the water barrel it was filled with blood instead. The Waif's head was floating in the barrel, she pushed the head aside and filled the jug anyway, the Lannister's were thirsty._

 _"There is only one god." Jaqen called out to her as she walked away. "A girl knows his name, and all men know the gift he brings." Then he removed his face, revealing her own face underneath._

 _She ignored the false Arya and pushed through the black and white doors. Tywin's cup looked to be made of gold but as she filled it with blood the gold started to flake off, revealing it to be cheap tin underneath. As Tywin lifted the cup to his lips and drank more of the gold flaked away…_

 _"There is a darkness in you." Melisandre whispered. The hand that held Arya's face was bone and rotting flesh, the face was sunken and rotting, the hair thin and greyed, flames burnt where the witch's eyes should be._

 _Arya opened her mouth. "_ _ **Melony, Lot Seven!**_ _" she yelled, but the voice was not her own and she did not know the language that the words were said in. Melisandre pulled back from her and the flames in Melisandre's eyes went out, she fell to the ground, a pile of rotting bones in a red robe. Melisandre's horse started foaming at the mouth and reared up, smashing it's hooves down on the ruby of Melisandre's necklace again and again, but the gem would not break and the horse's hooves were getting bloody, the trees were screaming._

 _As the horse's blood dripped onto the ruby Melisandre's body started to re-form until she was beautiful again. "We will meet again, Arya Stark." Melisandre told her, as she turned away Arya realised that the red witch was holding an onion in her hand. Arya looked around and realised that they were near the cave of the brotherhood without banners._

 _Black barked trees surrounded her, the air was full of the scents of pine, cranberries, and wild roses. A ghostly hand reached out and tugged at her loose hair, wrapping some of it just above a bunch of cranberries. Arya turned and at first she only saw the cranberry bush, but as the berries dislodged she reached out to catch them and something caused her to look in the direction of the ghost._

 _The woman was tall with broad shoulders and long silver-gold hair bound in a single braid. She was dressed in a mix of mail and light armour, expertly crafted, with the Targaryen 3-headed dragon clear to see. She looked stern, serious, and unforgiving._

 _"It seems you need a warning." She said quietly, her voice was a smooth alto, rich and full. "Blood magic always has a price, and always leaves a mark… you are marked. And you are at a place built by, and drenched in, blood magic. Make one choice, and you can tap into the terrible power of the Dreadfort… make another choice, and you can bring it to the ground… if you can control it… if it controls_ you _the Night King will be the least of the North's worries."_

 _"What do I have to do?" Arya asked her._

 _The ghost shook her head. "You will know, just as you know who I am. I am a dark sister, as are you."_

 _"Visenya." Arya whispered, the ghost started to fade away. "Wait! I don't know what to do, please, wait…" Arya yelled. "Isaeyan needs your help!"_

 _"No, Isaeyan needs_ your _help. Trust your instincts. See, don't just look. Hear, don't just listen."_

 _"Look with your eyes, listen with your ears." Arya replied._

 _"Exactly." Visenya agreed. "Remember, nothing is free, everything comes at a cost, choose what you are willing to sacrifice carefully." The apparition had faded before the final word was spoken. Where Visenya had stood was a very small rose bush with a single rosebud on it. The rose was unique, with two-tone petals unlike anything that Arya had ever seen. The petals were yellow at the heart and centre, but at the very edge of the petals they were an icy blue, like winter roses._

 _'It will flower soon.' Arya thought._

~~/~~

"Arya, Arya it would be really good if you woke up about now… Arya wake up!" Sandor whispered urgently as he lightly shook her.

Arya blinked, they were in the forest near the Dreadfort, but everything was strangely quiet. She looked up and realised that most of the pack had formed a ring around them, but the dogs and wolves were looking inwards, at her, not outwards. Nymeria was forward from the pack, a few feet from Arya and directly in front of her. Nymeria seemed to be waiting, Stranger was also in the circle, and also looking directly at Arya, he was to her right, Sandor was beside her and to her left. It took Arya a little longer to notice the birds…

She saw one kestrel at first, then two, then five… twelve... twenty… as her eyes and mind swept over them she quickly recognised the one that she had skin-changed, the kestrel flew forward and landed on one of Stranger's horns.

"Are you doing this?" Sandor hissed.

"I…" Arya shook her head. "I'm not sure." She reached out her mind to Nymeria, but all she could get from the direwolf was a sense of anticipation. Arya reached her mind out further, to One-eye, the hound was standing in the middle of the kennels, Ramsay's hounds forming a circle around him… he was also waiting… but for what?

Arya pushed herself to her feet and took a couple of steps forward, Nymeria met her in the middle of the circle, the large direwolf bowed her head down until Stark and Direwolf were touching forehead to forehead. Arya closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, focusing on Nymeria's scent, she reached up her left hand and stroked the fur along the side of Nymeria's jaw.

 _"All men are made of water, do you know this? When you pierce them, the water leaks out and they die."_ Syrio's words floated through her mind. " _Opening your eyes is all that is needing. The heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes see true. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. Taste with your mouth. Smell with your nose. Feel with your skin. Then comes the thinking, afterward, and in that way knowing the truth."_

Arya opened her eyes and took a couple of steps backwards, Nymeria did the same. Arya tried to push all thoughts from her mind and trust her senses, she let her gaze move around the circle, slowly her gaze came to rest on Stranger. The bull stepped forward as Arya did, the kestrel staying on it's horn, Arya reached up and stroked the bull's neck, she could feel it's pulse as the blood flowed just below her fingertips. Suddenly the Valyrian dagger was in her hand, it would be a powerful sacrifice, enough perhaps to take control of the blood magic this land was drenched in. There was Stark blood here, just below the dirt, there was First Flint blood, Burrow King and Marcher King had bleed here as well, with each thump of the bull's pulse she could feel more of it…

The Red Kings had failed, they didn't understand what they had and their blood magic attempts had been futile and wasteful, much of the power was still here, still waiting… she just had to make the right sacrifice and it could be hers. Arya's gaze moved to Sandor Clegane, human sacrifice was so much more powerful, if she were to sacrifice one bound to her by a vow of service… she swallowed thickly and forced herself to step backwards from the bull. "Get out of the circle." She growled at Sandor.

"Arya, I'm not-" Sandor argued.

Arya spun on him. "Get out of the circle _now_! While I can still control it!" She snapped. "Get out of the circle and take Stranger with you, or you will both be bound to me beyond death!"

The kestrel flew up into the air at her actions, Sandor looked at her in horror, then grabbed Stranger's rope and pulled him out of the circle. The hounds and wolves made a gap for him to leave and closed it off behind him. Arya stepped into the centre of the circle, she knew now, she understood the sacrifice that needed to be made. She stepped into the very centre of the circle and raised the blade to the index finger of her right hand, drawing a few drops of blood, she watched as the blood fell to the dirt below.

"We remember." She whispered as the old spells were woken. "The North remembers, winter is coming." The wave of power that washed over her drove her to her knees as she battled to control what she had unlocked, but as to if she screamed or howled she could not say.

~~/~~

Part 40:

Thousands of images passed through Arya's mind, but they felt more like memories than dreams, she saw from both the perspective of the sacrifice and the sacrificed, she felt the pain of a million cuts, and the power of inflicting them… for a fleeting instant she knew the name and thoughts of each, as if she were wearing their face, but then she would move on to the next face, and the next, it was too much information delivered too quickly to be retained.

She held on to certain things, the Greystark's had joined with the Bolton's because the Bolton's had taken hostages… Why hadn't they gone to the Stark's for aid? The stories about what had happened at the Three Sisters were true… She saw a Bolton wearing a cloak made of human skin, and instantly knew that the skin belonged to a Stark… but the Bolton's held no reverence for their sacrifices, their arrogance thwarted their own magics… the faceless men knew better.

Every time she screamed she felt part of the curtain wall around the Dreadfort crack, part of her understood that she was on the ground, on her hands and knees, digging into the dirt as she screamed in agony. Part of her knew that Nymeria was standing over her, howling with her screams, part of her knew that she was surrounded by pack, and that the kestrel's were circling overhead, but much of her did not.

Maybe seconds passed, maybe hours, she couldn't tell, but suddenly one final scream sent the walls that protected the Dreadfort falling, crumbling to the ground like sand. The kennel master opened the door trapping the Bolton hounds in a bid to save them, but all of the hounds remained focused on One-eye, on Arya, at their centre, it took but a thought to set them on the kennel master. The kestrel's came down on the keep next, they attacked guards and anybody armed but left servants be. As people started running in fear Arya forced herself to her feet and gave Nymeria a mental nod. The pack moved as one towards the Dreadfort, Arya didn't dare spare a glance to Sandor, least she accidently draw him in and bind him to her.

A part of Arya's mind rose up like a winter wind and ripped through the keep, putting out fires and tearing doors from their hinges. Her mind swept every room, yet the power she had tapped into allowed her to also keep part of her mind with her physical form, slowly she started to walk towards the keep. A tree got in her way, but before she could comprehend walking around it the tree was obliterated by the sheer force of the power surrounding her. Each step was a mammoth effort, but as she walked slowly towards the keep a path cleared for her. Trees and bushes exploded before her, the ground churned under her feet, but she kept putting one foot in front of the other.

Her mind found a locked room and ripped the door off of it's hinges. Inside she found an older woman chained and mutilated, the woman was painfully thin and her hands were wrapped in bloody bandages, she hung there hopelessly, seemingly waiting for death. The sigil of House Hornwood was embroidered on her ruined dress. Arya reached out to One-eye and sent the hound to the woman, along with the newest members of the pack. Only when One-eye and two other hounds were ready to stop the woman's fall did Arya force the chains to rip themselves from the wall, the cold iron giving way easily. The woman made no move to defend herself and it took much effort for the hounds to get her outside.

Arya's mind continued to explore the keep, she found the woman that had helped hunt the other woman and a dozen kestrel's swooped down to feast on her living flesh. People were running, screaming, a servant girl stumbled and dropped the baby in her arms, Arya sent a rush of wind under the babe and returned it to it's shocked mother's arms. Arya's physical body reached the gate just as the last living person ran screaming from a building. All that the Bolton's had built in blood needed to be destroyed, but it wasn't the servants' fault. All Arya needed to do was step over the threshold…

Suddenly the apparition of a man blocked her path, he was bathed in blood, but those pale eyes could not be mistaken, Roose Bolton, she shouldn't have been surprised. "Stop now and I might let you live." He sneered.

"You don't frighten me." Arya said.

"I should." He replied, he raised up both hands and suddenly one hand was holding the severed head of a direwolf, the other was holding Rickon's severed head.

Pain and rage ripped through Arya, yet this was an apparition, a projection, it could be a trick. Her mind reached out towards Winterfell and suddenly she could hear her mother screaming and her sister sobbing, she could see Robb and his army outside of the gate, looking defeated, as Roose held out the proof of his kills. Rickon was dead, Shaggy dog was also dead. Arya's mind searched for Lady, the direwolf was still alive but badly injured, demoralised and chained. The Winter Wind that was Arya ripped Lady's chains free, she pushed some of the power into Lady, she wasn't able to heal the injuries, but she was able to allow Lady to overcome them. Lady forced herself up, putting weight on broken front legs, the wind that was Arya helping carry her weight as she ran out of the kennels. Arya lifted Lady onto the top of the wall, near where Roose was standing. Arya whipped winds around Roose and he laughed, ice didn't scare him, the cold could not kill something like him…

But Arya was only the distraction, Lady leaped, pushing with her unbroken hind legs, and the wind helped her. Sansa had stopped crying and gone suddenly still, she watched as Lady ripped out Roose Bolton's throat. Arya turned the winds on the Bolton men, she found them one by one, and surrounded each in a cold wind which slowly got colder and colder, freezing them to death. The cold was so bitter it caused their swords to snap. It was a strange way to kill, bloodless, but Arya found that it was effective… and oddly familiar. Once she had finished in Winterfell she turned her mind to the Bolton men surrounding Winterfell, each suffered the same fate. She swept her mind from Winterfell to the Dreadfort then down to Hornwood Hall, taking out all the Bolton men she could find as she went. Eventually her mind returned to the Dreadfort and she stepped over the threshold.

Arya found her way to One-eye and the injured woman, Nymeria was already there, the pack surrounded her. One by one Arya broke each of the spells that had been built into the keep, there was blood in the mortar, the keep needed to become rubble. She lifted up her arms and the keep tore itself apart, the ground turned and the walls fell, the woman looked up at her terrified.

Arya reached out to the woman but the woman cringed back in fear. "I am a Stark." Arya said, but her voice vibrated with so much power that it did not sound like her own. "I am Arya, daughter of Eddard, of the line of Bran the Builder. I am not going to hurt you, get on the direwolf and you will be safe."

The woman nodded and Nymeria bent down, making it easier for her, half a dozen hounds and wolves nudged her up. Arya turned around and walked back the way she had come, to a waiting and stupefied Sandor Clegane. Arya realised absently that all of the runes on her armour were glowing.

Arya gestured to the woman on Nymeria's back. "Help her," she instructed Sandor. "She's afraid of me."

"Don't blame her." Sandor muttered and approached the woman, she flinched away from him. "Hey, I may be an ugly cunt, but I'm not going to hurt you." He told the woman. "I'm Sandor Clegane."

"Donella…" The woman whispered, then started coughing. Sandor lowered her to the ground then brought a water skin to her lips.

"Hey, easy, easy." He whispered. "Here, can you hold it?"

The name was enough, this was Donella Hornwood, born Donella Manderly, in a flash Arya saw what had been done to her. "This is Lady Hornwood," Arya said quietly. "Ramsay cut off her fingers." Ramsay had done far worse things than that, but Sandor did not need to know. Arya had seen it all, she knew that Donald's husband and son were dead, and that they had suffered horrible fates.

The look of horror on Sandor's face said it all, he helped Lady Hornwood drink and then carefully took one of her mutilated hands into his own. "We need to change your bandages." He said quietly.

"Just let me die." The poor woman begged. "Death would be better than this."

"No. Death isn't better or worse than anything, death is just nothing." Arya replied. "Your House needs you. The Bolton soldiers that were holding Hornwood Hall are dead, go home, rally your people, put suitable leadership in place to allow them to survive Winter. If you still wish to die once that is done I will permit it. But right now I, Arya of House Stark, order you, Lady Hornwood, to live."

"You can't order somebody to live, _princess._ " Sandor snapped.

"I can, and I have. Duty commands her to put her house in order, her husband is _dead_ , her son is _dead_ , her husband has another son, but he is _illegitimate_. Only she can decided if she should remarry, have Larence Snow naturalised, or name another as her heir. Until she has an heir in place, for the sake of the House, I command her to live."

"You sound like a Stark." Lady Hornwood muttered. She let Sandor tend her wounds and help her eat some food.

Arya watched, she wasn't hungry or thirsty, and she wasn't tired, slowly the glow of her armour started to fade. As dusk approached she watched the surviving kestrels rise up into the air in search of suitable roosts for the night. _'High as Honour.'_ She thought absently.

~~/~~


	9. Chapters 41 - 45

Part 41:

 _Pain… pain and fear… and always those pale, pale eyes. He would not scream, he was a Stark of Winterfell and he would not scream! His brothers would come… they might be too late, but they would come… he would tell this Bolton scum nothing!_

 _But as the flaying knife cut into his skin, as the taste of blood filled his mouth from biting off his own tongue, the screams came. Let Bolton have his screams… that was all the Red Lord would get from him… that and his skin…_

Arya woke up shaking and drenched in sweat, her heart was racing as the dark forest came into focus around her. Nymeria nudged her gently and Arya reached her arms around the massive direwolf's neck, taking the offered comfort. Nymeria curled up around her and Arya settled back in a sitting position, three wolves and a hound cuddled in around her. One of the smaller dogs climbed over them and settled on her lap, requesting pats. Arya focused on the pack and tried to drive the nightmares away. No, not nightmares, _memories_. They may not be her memories, but they were memories all the same, and they had been haunting her ever since the destruction of the Dreadfort.

Arya looked up at the moonless sky and prayed that she would not fall asleep again, or at least, if she did sleep that she would not dream. She dozed here and there, but fought off sleep as best she could, dawn seemed to take a lifetime to arrive. Her fingers traced the fur of hound and wolf alike as she tried not to think, tried not to remember. With morning came Sandor's judging eyes. He was worried about her, that was clear, she must look a wreck. If only she didn't need to sleep.

"Eat." Sandor muttered and shoved a skewered cold cooked rabbit into her hands. He had cooked up about a dozen the night before.

Arya frowned at the food and attempted to pass it back to him. "I'm not hungry." She muttered.

"I don't care, eat." Sandor insisted and refused to take the food back.

She sighed and watched as he broke off pieces of meat from another rabbit, alternately feeding them to himself and Lady Donella Hornwood. Arya picked at the rabbit but the meat was tasteless and she didn't feel hungry, the kestrel, which had been following them for days, landed on her knee and she feed him a few pieces.

Sandor growled. "That bird can get his own damned meat, you've hardly eaten in days, _eat!_ "

"Why do you care, anyway? If I don't eat it's more food for you." Arya muttered darkly. She knew that she sounded sulky and childish, but it really was a struggle to eat.

Sandor snarled at her. "I swore an oath to protect you, and I'm not a damn oathbraker. You'll eat, or I'll make you eat, your choice girl."

Arya obeyed, chewing slowly. "Careful," she muttered between mouthfuls. "You might get a good reputation."

He scoffed at that. "Nobody would believe you, I'm a monster, haven't you heard?" He carefully feed Donella another piece of chicken. He was very aware of her person as he did it, making every effort to give the abused older woman as much space as he could and to avoid unnecessary physical contact.

Arya rolled her eyes. "Right, and I'm a sweet little girl. People are idiots."

"You're a judgemental little princess." Sandor replied with a smirk.

Lady Hornwood watched their banter quietly. It was over a week since they had left the Dreadfort and the woman had said little. Her hands were so badly damaged that Arya had to help her relieve herself, a matter that had caused the older woman quite a lot of distress at first. Arya might not enjoy having to wipe somebody else's behind but she certainly wasn't going to make Sandor do it so there really wasn't any choice.

The kestrel squawked and Arya feed it another piece of rabbit, Sandor raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes at him before forcing herself to eat some more.

"Why are you having trouble eating?" Donella finally asked.

Arya shrugged then frowned, she thought about it for a while then sighed. "Do you know what I did… back at the Dreadfort?" Donella shook her head, Arya sighed again and considered her words carefully. "The power of the Red Kings was built on blood magic, there was no way that House Bolton could truly be defeated unless those spells were broken, the old Kings of Winter knew that… they thought it safer to control the Bolton's. That was a mistake, the Bolton's needed to be eradicated. I did it, but at a price." Arya paused, she was hesitant to go into too much detail, least she be branded a witch. They still killed witches in some parts of the North.

"I…" How could she word it without being named a monster? "I tore apart over eight centuries of poorly preformed human sacrifices… don't ask me how I did it because I don't know…" That was a lie, she had a fairly good idea what she had done… and what she had almost done. But she would no sooner admit to almost sacrificing Sandor than to getting a warning from the ghost of Visenya Targaryen. Yet she needed to tell Lady Hornwood something. "What I do know is that what I did has a cost… ever since, I've had no appetite and meat turns my stomach."

She did not mention how she had suffered what every one of their victims had suffered, every cut, every violation. She did not share how some of those memories plagued her when she let her guard down and tried to sleep. She did not tell them how she spent long nights sitting quietly as Sandor and Donella slumbered, waiting for the dawn to come.

Donella nodded thoughtfully and seemed to consider the answer that Arya had given. "We're almost back at Hornwood Keep, I'll make sure you get plenty of good bread and honey once we get there, and apples." She promised.

Arya nodded. "Thank you." She said quietly, she did not admit that the thought of any food turned her stomach. She felt _dirty_ , and in a way than no bath could ever clean.

Donella gave her a motherly smile. "I'm sure we can manage some cheese as well." She watched as Arya feed more meat to the kestrel. "Does the falcon have a name?"

Arya frowned, did the kestrel have a name? It had an identity, and it was certainly sticking around, she should name it. "Arryn," she decided. "His name is Arryn."

Donella smiled. "That's rather appropriate, how did you tame him?"

Sandor almost choked on his food at the question and Arya had to pass him a water skin to help him wash the meat down. "It's not tame," Sandor muttered between coughs. "Arya has an affinity for wild things."

If Arya had felt herself she might have taken the opportunity to make some witty quip, but she didn't. Instead she just stared blankly ahead and slowly chewed her food. They continued to eat for a little while, then Arya stood up to relieve herself and Donella followed. Donella's legs were still weak and Arya had to support her while she squatted. When Donella was finished Arya cleaned her up. Arya was washing her hands in a small creek when she heard movement. She signalled for Donella to stay still and mentally reached out to the pack, dogs and wolves slowly circled around.

The pack picked up the scent of one person, a man, One-eye recognised the scent as Ramsay Snow. That was an unexpected surprise, but when Arya thought back on it she had no clear recollection of what had happened to him.

"I know you're there, Ramsay." She said quietly. "Surrender now and I might let you live." Ramsay did not reply. "Or I could let the hounds and wolves that have surrounded you eat you alive." Arya continued calmly.

"Little bitch!" Ramsay snarled and leaped out from the bushes with his flaying knife in hand.

Arya drew the Valyrian dagger, which Sandor had returned to her, and slit Ramsay's throat in a single action. He stared at her in horror, his ugly face gulping like a fish out of water as he clutched his throat and tried to breathe. He fell to his knees at Arya's feet, pale eyes looking at her in shock. She looked at him, if not for the eyes he looked nothing like Roose Bolton, Ramsay was big boned with sloped shoulders and a broad nose. Roose, on the other hand, would have looked quite ordinary, if not for the eyes. As she looked she realised that Ramsay had escaped because she had felt no connection between him and the Dreadfort. Suddenly the truth was clear.

"You're not Roose's son." She whispered. "You have pale eyes, like him, but you're not his blood." Ramsay tried to reach out to her, his mouth opened as if to try and refute her words but only blood gurgled out. "You're nothing." Arya said calmly and took a step backwards as he fell, face forward into the creek. She moved up stream a little and washed off the blood, ignoring the hounds and wolves as they feed on him.

Donella stood in shock, watching as the pack devoured him. "My gods…" she whispered.

"He can't hurt you anymore." Arya reassured her, Donella nodded mutely and followed Arya back to camp. Arya ignored the fearful looks that Donella occasionally cast at her. Maybe it was a good thing for the woman to remember that Arya was dangerous?

~~/~~

Sandor was snoring loudly and Donella was whimpering in her sleep, Arya sighed and sat leaning against a tree trunk. Her thoughts wandered to Yoren and she briefly wondered if he had made it safely back to the Wall? In a life that now seemed like a bad dream he had sat and talked with her when she couldn't sleep, had even died to protect her, and Gendry. Arya's hand moved to the small knife on her belt that Yoren had given her. That had been her first moment of hope, her first belief that she could change things, and she had changed much. But she was no longer sure of her path, or of what she was becoming. Would she become a bigger threat to the North than the Night King? Memories of Gendry's fate in the other life still haunted her. If she could do that to him, she could do it to anybody…

Later that day they made it back to Hornwood Keep, Donella was a welcome sight to her people. The Maester immediately saw to her injuries and insisted on checking over Sandor and Arya as well. They were given baths and clean clothes, somebody attempted to offer Arya a dress but she politely declined, asking for pants and a shirt instead. Servants offered to take Arya's armour away and clean it, but she insisted on cleaning it herself. They stayed there for almost a week, making sure that things were in order, before heading to Winterfell. Arya made a deliberate effort to try and eat, which seemed to make both Donella and Sandor happy, but she still had no appetite and sleep was still allusive. Donella and two dozen men accompanied them to Winterfell, as did three hand maidens who helped meet Donella's physical needs.

As the sight of Arya's childhood home came into sight she suddenly felt apprehensive, she had been away for so long, and she had changed so much. She was dirty, dressed in armour, and armed. Would her mother reject her? She refused to be the lady that her mother demanded her to be, she was a soldier, but she knew her mother wouldn't understand that. Robb had given her his word that he would support her, but would he cave to their mother's demands? And what of her father? She had heard nothing of if he was alive or dead. She could have warged Tiny, but she was afraid to learn the truth.

 _Fear cuts deeper than swords. Calm as still water. Quiet as a shadow, strong as a bear, fierce as a wolverine… Fear cuts deeper than swords. The man who fears loosing has already lost… calm as still water… I am a Stark of Winterfell… cool as the black pool, at the foot of the Heart tree, sin the Godswood… think of the black pool… I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, mother can accept me as I am or not accept me, that is her choice._

~~/~~

Part 42:

Horns sounded as they approached the gates and Robb and Grey Wind rode out to meet them surrounded by guards, Grey Wind reached her first, but after sniffing her he backed away, seeming uncertain, his hackles raised and he howled at her. It was a confirmation of what she already knew, she was tainted by the blood magic of the Dreadfort.

Robb frowned at Grey Wind's reaction and began to reprimand the direwolf. "Grey Wind, stop that, it's Arya." He snapped.

"It's okay, it's not his fault." Arya replied sadly. She sent a thought to Nymeria and her pack backed off, disappearing into the woods, Nymeria stayed with her, even though the direwolf made her horse uneasy. Grey Wind seemed to calm down, but kept his distance from both Arya and Nymeria. Arryn, the kestrel, hovered in the air some feet above. The guards formed up around their party and they rode into Winterfell. Arya rode on Robb's left and equal with him, Nymeria was on her left and Grey Wind was on Robb's right.

There were plenty of people there to greet them, from Umber to Glover to Mormont. Many of them cheered and greeted her warmly, familiar faces filled the crowd, yet as the gates closed Arya suddenly felt closed in and trapped. She dismounted her horse slowly, scanning the courtyard for possible threats. Her mother rushed across the courtyard to hug her, but Arya couldn't help but tense up at the embrace, she immediately felt like a cornered animal.

"Arya, by the Seven, Arya, you're home, your safe." Catelyn held her at arm's length and inspected her. "Gods, look at you! You're filthy! We'll get you a nice hot bath, and get you into some nice fresh clothes. I know most of your dresses got left at Kings Landing, but you look like you could fit some of Sansa's older ones now, and your hair! Well, we'll fix that-"

"No." Arya said calmly.

"What do you mean 'No'?" Catelyn shook her head and continued talking, not giving Arya a chance to respond. "Look at you, this is no way for a Lady to dress, or a princess! Come, let's get you inside."

"No." Arya repeated calmly. "I'm going to the godswood."

"Arya!" Catelyn scolded. "I am your mother and you will respect me!"

"You are my mother." Arya agreed. "And I would never keep you from the Sept, right now I need to go to the godswood. I am sorry if you do not understand that the old gods do not care if somebody is clean or dirty. I need to go to the Heart Tree and clear my thoughts." Catelyn dropped her arms in shock and Arya started walking towards the godswood, Nymeria beside her and Arryn flew above, Sandor started to follow. "I need to do this alone, Clegane, you may go as far as the gate but I will ask you to stop there."

"As you command, princess Arya." Sandor replied, his words were short and formal with no hint of mockery.

Sansa stared at Arya in shock but Arya didn't even turn her head, all she could think of was the cool waters of the black pool. As Arya drew closer to the Weirwood memories from the older self started to flood over her. She didn't fight them, instead letting them swim through her as she walked, as the Weirwood came into sight it seemed to be watching her, waiting. Nymeria stayed back and let Arya approach the tree alone, Arryn flew ahead and landed on one of the high branches, lost in a sea of red leaves. Arya moved slowly, but finally her hand rested on the smooth white bark.

She leant against the tree for a few minutes and just let her thoughts flow into it. After a while she sat at the black pool and started to carefully clean her blades. Once that was done she removed her armour and started cleaning it in the cool waters of the black pool as well, then her boots. She removed her socks, they were fairly gross, and washed them in the water of the pool, getting all of the sweat out of them, she hung them over her boots to dry. There was no point washing her socks if she didn't wash her feet, she dipped her toes into the cold water and started wiggling them, then she scrubbed then with her hands.

The cold was refreshing… mother wanted her to have a bath… she slipped into the black pool, still clothed in her shirt and pants, and let herself sink for ages. She scrubbed herself down and untangled her hair, then she just let herself float, about three feet under the surface, and let all that had happened to her float away. She imagined the memories of the Bolton victims floating out of her head along her hair, into the water, and flowing into the roots of the weirwood. She felt all of her rage and fear float away. She closed her eyes and floated, until eventually she felt _clean_. She opened her eyes and saw Robb looking down at her with concern, she pushed herself upwards and broke the surface, breathing the water out of her lungs and replacing it with air.

"Gods Arya! Do you know how long you've been down there?!" Robb exclaimed with concern. "I was about to dive in after you."

Arya shrugged and made her way to the water's edge, she pulled herself out and Grey Wind came over to sniff her, he sniffed her again then licked her face, causing her to laugh. "I smell better, huh?" She asked him. She balled up her hair, squeezing out as much water as possible, then started trying to wring out her clothes.

Robb removed his wolf-skin cloak and draped it over her shoulders. "You'll catch your death of cold." He muttered. He handed her sword belts to her and she strapped first Needle, then the Valyrian dagger, around her waist, then she tucked the dagger from Yoren into one of the belts.

Robb picked up her boots and socks, but let her carry her armour, and they walked back to the Keep, flanked by their direwolves. Arryn stayed in the godswood. They talked quietly as they walked, father was alive, but not well, and was back at Winterfell. Robb was hesitant to tell her about Rickon's death, but when he did she reassured him that it wasn't his fault. She talked around what she had done at the Dreadfort but didn't give many details. He told her that she had been lucky, he had sent men and they had reported that the fort had since been destroyed by freak earthquakes. She nodded and did not corrected him. The dinner bell sang as they exited the godswood and Arya's stomach rumbled loudly, she started heading towards the Great Hall.

"Do you want to get dry first?" Robb suggested, gesturing towards the building her room was in, but Arya shook her head.

"No, I'm starving." She replied.

Robb shrugged and Sandor gave her a curious look, she entered the Great Hall with wet cloths and hair and bare feet, dragonskin armour in her hands, and a wolf-skin cloak around her shoulders. As she walked up the centre of the hall with her weapons showing and a direwolf at her side she knew people were staring, but for once she didn't care. The look on her mother's face was displeased, but the smirks on the She Bear and the Greatjon were worth it. For the first time Arya realised that it wasn't her that didn't fit, it was her mother, and her mother's Southron ideals, that didn't fit. She smiled at Maege Mormont and gave the Greatjon a wink as she dropped her armour near a fire and took her seat.

Jon Umber let out a roaring laugh at her antics. "Now, _that's_ a Stark!' he declared pointing at her. "Let's eat!"

"I'll drink to that." Maege Mormont agreed, raising her horn.

The room erupted into talk and banter as Arya reached for a juicy roast and carved herself a large chunk of meat. The evening passed in a blur, but as Arya sank into her bed, and pulled the furs around her, she was confident that sleep would come easy for once.

~~/~~

Arya reached the training yards just as the sun was rising, she had slept well, but she still couldn't sleep late. Yet Ser Rodrick was already there when she arrived.

"Robb said to expect you around dawn," The older man said quietly, he gestured to Needle. "I hear you're quite good with that thing, which is interesting considering your father never let _me_ train you, I'd like to know where you learned?"

Arya smiled at him. "Why don't I show you _what_ I've learned first? Then we can discuss the how."

Ser Rodrick nodded and smiled, he handed her a wooden training sword, she took it respectfully and bowed at him, causing him to raise an eyebrow at her actions. "My master taught me to always respect my opponent." She said with a smile. "Arrogance will get you killed."

Ser Rodrick nodded. "A good lesson, I see you hold your sword in your left hand." He began to circle her, his posture was a lot squarer than hers.

"Why don't you stand side-face?" She questioned.

He smiled. "I'm never going to be a small target, and I can chose from a wider range of shots square on, did you notice that whilst my shoulders may be square I am not flat footed and one foot is always in front of the other?"

Arya nodded. "You use the tripod of balance?"

"Yes, but not in the same way you do." Ser Rodrick commented, he struck out with his sword, a fake to the head followed by a body blow, Arya blocked both shots. "Very good." He complimented. "But speed will only get you so far."

Arya smirked. "I'm still sizing you up, Ser Rodrick, the dance is only beginning."

Ser Rodrick raised an eyebrow at her reply. "I've never danced with a princess before." He mused.

They continued to spar for almost two hours, slowly a crowd began to gather around them, Ser Rodrick was calm and measured, and he kept his guard raised, he gave Arya few openings. She tried luring him in a few times, but he never over committed and was able to change the angle of his strike quickly. All the while their banter continued, the merits and disadvantages of both styles were debated at length. It was only when Ser Rodrick called the session to a halt that Arya noticed her parents watching from the balcony above.

Her father looked pale, and thinner than she had ever seen him in this life, a memory of the steps of the Sept of Balor flashed across her mind. If not for mother's support he likely wouldn't be standing. But as she looked at him he smiled. She bowed deeply, before handing her training sword back to Ser Rodrick hilt first. She took a couple of steps backwards then took a running start at one of the uprights supporting the balcony, she climbed it quickly and hauled herself over the balcony so that she was standing beside him.

"Show off." He muttered. "You're good, but there is always somebody better, don't let it go to your head."

Arya nodded, then she threw her arms around him and started to sob. "I thought you were dying." She whispered into his chest.

He stroked her hair gently. "I know." He replied quietly and kissed the top of her head. "Let's go break our fast."

~~/~~

Part 43:

Breakfast was something of a family affair. Ned, Catelyn, Robb, Grey Wind, Theon, Sansa, Maester Lewin, Nymeria and Arya gathered in the room where they often broke their fast together.

Arya watched as Sansa sat quietly at the table, picking at her food, Lady was nowhere to be seen. Arya suddenly realised that she hadn't spoken with Sansa at all the day before, nor had she seen Lady. She _knew_ the direwolf's two front legs were broken, but she hadn't been _told_ it, and the power that she had tapped into at the Dreadfort had scared her. She knew that she could never be free of the taint, but washing herself clean in the black pool had helped, it was as if she had been covered in muck and the black pool of the weirwood had soaked it away. For the first time in weeks her mind didn't feel clouded.

"Where is Lady?" She asked the question before she had fully thought through the implications of it.

"Lady is hurt, the kennel master is helping me look after her." Sansa said quietly.

"Roose hurt her?" Arya asked.

Sansa shook her head. "Two of the guards, that I thought had been assigned to protect me, held me still, and the third one made me watch as the knight broke her front legs." Sansa sobbed.

"Why?" Arya asked.

Sansa looked up at her with tearful eyes. "When I realised that the Bolton's were our enemies, when they closed the gates to Robb and threatened to kill us, I snuck out of my window at night and tried to let the Direwolves out of the kennels, that was my punishment."

"You fought them?" Arya asked in wonder.

"I tried." Sansa said quietly. "I mean, not with a sword like you or Robb, but I tried. Lady, she… even with broken legs she somehow managed to break free of her chain… gods only know how she got up on the wall… but even though she was in terrible pain she attacked Lord Bolton… she killed him." There was pride in Sansa's voice, Arya decided that she wasn't taking any of that away from her.

"You saw her do it?" Arya asked, even though she already knew the truth.

"I saw it, and I…" Sansa's words trailed off.

"You felt it." Robb said quietly. "It was almost as if it was _your_ jaws ripping out his throat." It was a statement, not a question. Sansa nodded.

"Gross." Theon muttered through a mouthful of egg, a lump of egg escaped his mouth and flew across the table.

"Could you taste the blood?" Arya asked. "Could you _smell_ it."

Sansa gave her a horrified look and nodded. "How…?"

"You're a warg." Robb said calmly, "We all are, all of…" his gaze flicked to Ned briefly then he returned his attention to Sansa. "Every grandchild of Rickard Stark, that was raised at Winterfell, is a warg." He said firmly.

"You mean all of _your father's children_ are wargs." Catelyn corrected, looking at him strangely.

Arya tensed. Robb looked at her and frowned. "I wouldn't know about that, mother." He said coldly, meeting their mother's gaze. "I've only met one of Brandon Starks other children, and I didn't know Ros Snow was my half-sister at the time. Tell me, how long did you plan to hide the fact than I'm a bastard from me?"

"You are _not_ a bastard, we've talked about this Robb, Brandon may have sired you, but you are my _son_ and _heir_." Ned said firmly.

Robb stood up. "Saying it doesn't make it true, I'm a _Rivers_ not a _Stark_ , and Bran is a _Snow_! You had one trueborn son, and Roose Bolton murdered him, _Sansa_ is your heir! I have no more claim to Winterfell than Jon does!"

Theon rose to his feet almost as quickly as Robb did. "Robb, stop, what the hells are you talking about?" He pleaded.

"I'm a bastard, Theon." Robb was so angry he was almost spitting his words. "My mother has produced three sons, to three different Stark's, and my _uncle_ has silently tolerated it to protect us! I'm Brandon's and Benjen fathered Bran! All these years, she's treated Jon like something scraped off of the bottom of her boot for being a bastard, and she has two of her own!" Robb was shaking with rage, Theon put his hands on Robb's shoulders, trying to comfort him.

"You are, and will always be, my brother." Theon told him. "Stark or Rivers, I don't give a damn." Arya could only watch as a single tear ran down Robb's cheek.

Catelyn had suddenly turned pale and father was looking on in shock. Sansa shook her head as if she couldn't even begin to process the information. It was Maester Lewin who finally calmed things down.

"Robb, Theon, sit down." He said calmly, both slowly obeyed. "Now, it may be true that Brandon Stark sired you, and Benjen Stark sired Bran," Catelyn opened her mouth as if to deny it, but Lewin raised a hand silencing her. "But you are both _legally_ Lord Eddard's sons and _legally_ Starks, Jon is not, although Lord Eddard will not explain to me why. I can show you the paperwork with King Robert's seal if you wish?"

"Ned, stop this madness." Catelyn pleaded.

Ned just looked at her sadly. "Did you really think I didn't know the truth?" He asked her. "Robb _had_ to be Brandon's, the dates don't add up for him to be mine, Jon Arryn made sure I had the paperwork in place to make him legally my son should anybody question it. When Benjen confessed to me about what had happened while I was at Pyke I got paperwork drawn up to protect Bran as well."

"You knew? All these years you knew?" Catelyn asked, she was looking at Ned like he was a stranger that she had never seen before. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Why didn't you?" Ned replied, he looked sad and tired.

"Wait, you mean to say you've slept with all three Stark brothers, which one was the best?" Theon asked. Catelyn just glared at him, she stood up slowly, holding her head high, and walked out of the room. A few moments later something else seemed to click into place in Theon's head, he turned his attention to Robb. "Ros Snow, _Ros the whore_ , is your sister?!" Robb nodded. "I fucked you sister…" Theon muttered.

"And you paid for the pleasure." Arya added with a smirk. "Oh, and apparently you're not that good."

"How do _you_ know Ros?!" Theon asked.

Arya laughed. "She helped me save a bunch of King Robert's natural born children… we talked." She replied smugly. But Theon wasn't accepting that for an answer, he pressed her for more details, slowly Arya started to tell her siblings about the forming and adventures of the caravan of the Yellow Lady, although she did leave certain details out of the story. She told them about Robar and the horses, about Elenei teaching Mhaegen to sew… she told them about Lucerys and his family, about happy little Argella and her sister, Mary, of Mary's son… and she told them about Gendry.

~~/~~

The next few weeks Winterfell was a fluster of activity as preparations were made for the official coronation of the first King in the North for over 300yrs. Catelyn put on a brave face in public, and sat with the family in the Great Hall for the evening meal, but she no longer broke fast with them and mainly kept herself busy with matters around the Keep. Thankfully even Theon had the wit to keep his mouth shut about the matter.

Father was still recovering, but it was clear that he would never be strong enough to fight again, and he tired easily. Robb and Theon spent much of their time with him, Robb had wanted to see the documents proving that Father had legally adopted him, Maester Lewin had produced them easily enough. There were many meetings in the Great Hall and Robb encouraged Sansa and Arya to attend them all, boring as they were, it was important and good practice. Robb made them sit at the high table so they had to pay attention.

Father always sat in the middle with Robb, then Theon on his right, Sansa would sit on his left, then Arya, Grey Wind would sit at the right of the table and Nymeria would sit at the left, it would have made quite a painting. Arya noticed that Sansa was starting to develop quite a head for politics, Arya knew that Sansa had the potential, but it was nice to see her develop her skills in a more healthy environment than in the other life.

Because they were always part of the councils they were there when Father made the shocking announcement that Robb should be the one to be crowned, not him. Father believed that the North needed a King who was physically strong, something he would never be again, Robb refused to accept the roll without revealing the truth of his parentage, the adoption papers and legitimisation papers were brought out and an order was made for the lineage books to be corrected. The debate went on for hours, there was a reasonable enough faction suggesting that Sansa should be crowned Queen instead. Mother, who had not been at the Hall, became angered later, when she discovered that the truth of Robb and Bran's parentage had been discussed without her presence. Arya felt sad for her mother, but she didn't know what to do.

Catelyn hadn't been at dinner, Arya had spent two hours debating before picking up the fabric that Elenei had given her and quietly making her way to her mother's room. The first time she knocked there was no answer, she knocked again, this time calling out. "Mother, it's me, Arya."

Catelyn opened the door slowly, her eyes were red-rimmed from crying and she looked a mess. "Arya, it's late." She said quietly.

Arya nodded and clutched the fabric tighter. "I know," She said quietly, "But you weren't at dinner, have you eaten?" Catelyn nodded, Arya hovered in the doorway, feeling uncomfortable. "Robb wasn't trying to hurt you, you know." She said quietly. "He honestly didn't feel it would be right to accept the crown unless the other lords could accept the truth of his parentage, he wasn't going to become King in the North on a lie."

Arya watched as her mother nodded. "I know that." Catelyn said quietly, she sniffed.

"Do you?" Arya asked quietly. "Do you know how much it broke his heart to learn he wasn't Ned Stark's son? Do you know how much _more_ how you have treated Jon hurts now that we know the truth?"

"And what is the truth about _Jon_?" Catelyn asked defensively.

Arya hesitated, her mother was in so much pain, but it wasn't her place… she shook her head. "He's not a Stark, he is our blood, but he's not a Stark… anything more, you need to ask Father." She said quietly.

"You know the truth." Catelyn accused.

Arya met her mother's gaze. "Yes, I know Jon's parentage," She said quietly, "Jon _didn't_ when he went to the Wall, if he had he wouldn't have gone, and don't ask me, for I won't tell you. I came here to try and make peace, but if you don't want to make me a dress for Robb's coronation I understand."

"You'll wear a dress?" Catelyn asked, surprised.

"Only if you make it," Arya replied. "Otherwise I'll wear my armour, will you let me come in and show you the fabric that Elenei Waters gave me?"

Catelyn let her in, and the next morning Catelyn joined them for breakfast as well.

~~/~~

The day of the coronation dawned crisp and clear, and the dress her mother had made her was unique and beautiful. There had been some debate, Robb still wanted her to wear Needle and the Valyrian dagger, but Catelyn had agreed to modify the dress accordingly. She had reinforced the waist with strong black fabric to accommodate the weapons, and she had spent many hours stitching playing direwolves and blue winter roses along the hems. She had worked black into the shoulders and back of the dress as well, making it more like Arya's armour… she'd even carefully stitched a yellow leaping direwolf into the black section on the back. Mother explained that where she had worked the black in the dress could be re-worked as Arya grew taller, if she grew taller.

Sansa had made her own dress, it was beautiful, white trimmed with black and grey. Catelyn did both girls hair in matching hairstyles, and her own in a thick braid. The coronation ceremony itself happened in the godswood, but the High Septon had travelled from Kings Landing to officiate the ceremony, and a number of Archmaesters from the Citadel were present, it was a mix of old and new. There were also representatives from many of the Great Houses of the Realm, Olenna Tyrell had arrived with a retinue a few days before and Oberyn Martell had arrived the day after, along with his nephew, Trystane Martell, and three of his daughters, amongst others.

Yara Greyjoy had come to represent the Iron Islands, although it had not been quite the pleasant reunion that Theon had hoped for, she had publicly humiliated him in two sparring matches since her arrival, before becoming fast friends with the Sand Snakes.

Winterfell and Winter Town were full to bursting, and Robb kept Sansa and Arya right at the front of it all, Arya had been too busy to train in over a week. She was somewhat aware that many of the unexpected guests were eyeing both her and Sansa up for possible marriage arrangements, but she wasn't enjoying the attention half as much as Sansa was.

There were plenty of women vying for Robb's attention as well, and the Sand Snakes were not the least among them. Theon might have been jealous if he hadn't found the whole thing so damned amusing. The news of Robb's true parentage had clearly travelled fast, as proven by an inappropriate comment by Oberyn.

"So, Lady Catelyn… forgive me, _Queen Mother_ , you're not a _Lady_ , are you? Is it true that you laid with both of Ned Stark's brothers?"

Surprisingly it was Theon that came to her rescue. "Are you jealous that she gave each one a son when you only seem able to father daughters?" Theon asked, he deliberately looked Tyene Sand up and down. "Don't get me wrong, they're beautiful daughters but-"

Tyene suddenly had a small dagger held near his throat. "Choose your next words carefully." She smirked.

Theon laughed. "Now, you've got it wrong, _I'm_ meant to stick _you_." He replied.

Yara suddenly slid up beside her brother. "You can stick me any time." She said suggestively to Tyene.

Tyene pulled her blade away and eyed up Yara. "Careful, I might take you up on that offer." She whispered.

"Careful, I might let you." Yara replied.

The rest of the day continued without incident. Many of the guests, both invited and uninvited, lingered for another week. Olenna Tyrell was the last to leave, she had spent many hours talking about trade deals and having quiet conversations with both Ned and Catelyn, and she seemed to have taken quite a liking to Sansa. Arya didn't like it, maybe she was being paranoid, but the queen of thorns seemed to be up to something, Arya was relieved the day she left.

~~/~~

Part 44:

Robb's plan to free Jon from the Nights Watch had been to use the precedent of Barristan Selmy's dismissal from the Kings Guard, the vows of which were also meant to be for life, and to offer 100 men in his place. But, between younger sons, poor men, and orphan boys they had rounded up over 300 men to send to the Nights Watch in exchange for Jon, all of them were men that would otherwise be a burden on the North during a long winter. There was still a chance that it wouldn't work, Robb had wanted to go and talk with them himself, but father had counselled him against it.

Father would go, he was better at these things, and he wanted to get a real feel for just how much of a threat Mance Rayder was. He would also talk with the Lords closest to the gift, as they would not be happy about letting wildlings through, something which needed to happen to prevent adding them to the Night King's army, but something which needed to be managed in a controlled way. Father might stay at the Wall for quite some time to assist with this if the Lord Commander required.

Arya had begged to be allowed to go with him, but both Ned and Robb had refused for a number of reasons, one of them being that there must always be a Stark at Winterfell. Sansa had left for Riverrun with Catelyn a few days earlier. Hoster Tully was reportedly very unwell, and nobody could truly blame Catelyn for wanting to get away from the North now that the truth of her infidelity had come to light. Oh, she'd had good reasons, reasons which (in her mind at least) had justified the acts at the time, but Arya was learning that almost anything could be justified if you tried hard enough. (After all, Arya herself had justified what she had done to the Bolton men, many of those that she had frozen to death had simply been following orders, yet she had offered them no chance to surrender.)

Arya sighed, if she were to leave Winterfell now she would effectively be trapping Robb there; until father returned, or Robb married and fathered a child, she was stuck. Bran wasn't returning any time soon, Arya knew that she should check in with him and see how he was going, but ever since the Dreadfort she was reluctant to open her mind in that way.

Nymeria had left, to re-join her pack, and Arya hadn't had a wolf-dream since. Tiny had stayed with father, and father was even taking the little dog with him, it appeared that Ned had become quite fond of the animal. Arryn, the kestrel, was still around.

Arya watched as Ned picked up Tiny under one arm and mounted his horse, a plain iron sword on his hip, Ice belonged to Robb now. Father placed Tiny on the front of the saddle and gave Arya one last sad smile before riding out. It reminded her strongly of the sad smile that Jon had given her before going to join the Night's Watch, but Father wasn't going to take the black, he was going to bring Jon home.

The next few months passed relatively quickly, Arya had made it clear that she intended to return to King's Landing at some stage and take up the seat offered to her on the small council, and Robb seemed to respect this, but he wanted her to be ready for it. She spent hours each day with Maester Lewin, and with Robb, learning about how to rule and lead, she studied everything from battle tactics to trade, and the planning of harvests, when she wasn't studying she was either training or at Robb's side, she hardly got any time to herself.

Maester Lewin even made her practice her handwriting by re-writing books and scrolls that had gotten smoke damage when the library had caught fire, luckily much of what had been destroyed had been replaceable. She wrote until her hand cramped, and then she wrote some more, then when she was done she would write to Shireen and Gendry.

Shireen always wrote back, but Arya had sent Gendry three letters before he wrote her one. The handwriting was messy and the letter was short, the parchment smudged, it reminded Arya that he hadn't been given the same quality of education that she had, and was likely embarrassed to write to her. She wondered how many times he had re-written the letter before sending it? He talked about nothing specific, the mining of the Dragon glass was going well, Tobho Mott had settled in and seemed happy, and was enjoying working with stone and steel. That comment confused her for about a day, but eventually she clicked that Gendry was referring to Opal and Dragonsteel, that meant that the dragons were starting to breathe fire now! She wondered how big they had gotten, she missed them terribly.

It was about two months after father had left when Maester Lewin brought Arya to the special part of the library and carefully brought a handful of old Valyrian scrolls to a table.

"Now, Princess Arya, you must be very careful with these, the parchment is very dry and the fire has caused them damage, they must be preserved. You have been careful, and your writing has improved to a point that I will allow you to make a copy of them."

"Why have you not made a copy already?" Arya asked, confused.

Maester Lewin smiled at her. "I have, but it is best to always copy from the oldest text to minimise errors, the copies that you are making are for Crown Prince Gendry, when Lord Tyrion Lannister was here he said this was the best collection that he had ever seen, and he has been to Dragonstone."

Arya shook her head. "You're saying our library is better than the one at King's Landing and the one at Dragonstone?" She asked, astonished.

"In some respects, yes." Maester Lewin agreed quietly. "When King Baelor came into power he ordered a lot of books to be destroyed, apparently House Stark did not comply. This," Maester Lewin carefully indicated a scroll. "Is the only complete copy of Ayrmidon's **_Engines of War_** that Tyrion had ever seen, and it is quite rare, you will want to take great care with the diagrams. It has everything from weapons designed to kill dragons to dragon saddles and armour in it."

Maester Lewin then went to a large heavy chest craved of Weirwood with a lock on it, the chest was longer than Arya was tall and also doubled as a seat, he produced a key, from one of his many hidden pockets and carefully unlocked it. "This is something that Lord Tyrion was not allowed to see, and it is only at King Robb's direct instruction that I am showing you, usually only the Lord of Winterfell and their heir are allowed in this chest, although your father allowed me access many years ago."

He lifted the lid, inside there were three large arrows, each as long as Arya was tall, which looked to be carved out of Weirwood. "These arrows were carved by Brandon Snow, half-brother of King Torrhen Stark, he believed that they could kill Aegon's dragons, but Torrhen forbade him from trying. They were designed to be fired from an Onager, it's a weapon that you will find in there." Lewin pointed to the scroll that they had just been discussing.

He started to rummage through the chest. "There are other things in here, but I have not been permitted to discuss them with you, ah, there it is." He pulled out a heavy tome that looked about a hundred to two hundred years old. "This is possibly the only copy of this book in existence, Baelor explicitly banned and ordered the burning of it."

"What is it?" Arya asked with curiosity.

" ** _Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History_** , also known as **_Unnatural History_** , by Septon Barth, the Hand of the King of Jaehaerys I Targaryen." Lewin hesitated. "When I discovered it your Lord father explicitly requested that I not inform the Citadel of its existence. At the time I never thought we'd see another dragon again and so thought little of it, now, with the rumours from Essos, the book seems more important…" He gave her a questioning look. "But that's not why King Robb specifically requested that you read, and copy, this book, is it?"

Arya swallowed thickly. "No." She replied quietly.

"Have you found dragon eggs?" Lewin asked, it was a fair question, there was a time when wild dragons had roamed Dragonstone, but The Cannibal, an enormous wild black dragon that some said pre-dated the Targaryen arrival on the island, had eaten most of them.

"Gendry found two." Arya replied hesitantly.

Maester Lewin nodded thoughtfully. "Be careful, do not be tempted by blood magic... it always has a price."

Arya nodded. "You're not the first to give me that warning." She said quietly.

Lewin gave her a thoughtful look and his hand moved to his Maester's chain, his thumb and forefinger moved over the Valyrian link. "The warning came too late, didn't it?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, but it stopped me from making a terrible mistake." Arya replied quietly.

Lewin continued to study her, and his fingers continued to stroke the link that proved he had studied the higher mysteries. "How did the Bolton men really die?" He asked quietly.

Arya bit her lip, how did she answer that question? "Winter came for House Bolton." She said quietly. "Winter _fell_ on them and they had no means to escape."

Maester Lewin looked scared. "Ever since the coronation… your brother has been talking about Winter as if it is a living thing that can be controlled." He said quietly.

"Winter winds are a living thing, but they are as uncontrollable as direwolves, they can however be directed." Arya replied quietly, she didn't know where the knowledge came from, but as soon as she said it she knew it was true. "Winter, true winter, is something else."

Maester Lewin nodded slowly. "How…?" He asked, seeming to want to understand.

Arya looked at the candles in the room, the fire in the hearth. "Like this." She said quietly, and raised a winter wind which blew them all out. The room was suddenly cold, Maester Lewin shivered as Arya pulled the wind back into herself, she walked over to the hearth and carefully used a flint to re-light the fire.

"No wonder you Starks don't mind the cold." He muttered.

"Are you afraid of me now?" Arya asked cautiously.

Maester Lewin shook his head. "I'm afraid of what you can do, but I know you, I helped bring you into this world, remember who you are, Arya Stark, do not lose yourself to the temptation of power."

They talked for a little while longer, then he left her to her writing, her hand was cramping by the time she was summoned to the Great Hall. It was later than she had realised, and the rumbling of her stomach informed her that she had missed lunch, but it was too late for that. As Arya entered the Great Hall, Sandor behind her, she realised that something important was about to happen, a number of guests from House Manderly had arrived while she was in the library tower.

Wynafryd Manderly looked beautiful, her long brown hair bound in a single braid with carefully placed pearls, her green and white gown also had pearls sewn into it. Her father and mother stood to either side of her. Arya was curious, Robb had said nothing of the Manderly's coming, nor had he sent for her upon their arrival.

Court proceeded as usual, Arya sat on Robb's left and Theon on his right, then Maester Lewin sat beside Theon. Grey Wind lay in his usual spot at the right of the table and watched everybody, Sandor stood in his usual spot at the left of the table and scowled at anybody who moved too close to the table. Farmers and nobles alike brought their concerns to Robb, and each matter was dealt with in a fair and considered manner, finally, over two hours after court had begun, Robb called Wylis and Leona Manderly forward. To Arya's surprise, they stated their business as a marriage proposal between Robb and Wynafryd.

Robb had received quite a few proposals over the last few months, but the way that everything was orchestrated reminded Arya of when Sansa had been officially betrothed to Joffrey. It was as if the matter had already been decided, which Arya would later discover it had, Robb accepted the proposal and a wedding date was set for two moons time, all going well both Jon and father would be back by then. It took a while for Robb to quieten the cheers, but finally he managed to be able to address the Great Hall again.

"Forgive me, my Lords and Ladies, this is not the only betrothal that needs to be celebrated today, Sansa has also recently become engaged, to Ser Loras Tyrell."

The Hall cheered, but Arya froze. Loras, _Loras?!_ She wanted to protest the union, but she held her tongue, she would not make Robb look weak in front of his Lords. And, just because _she_ didn't like Loras didn't mean that he wouldn't treat Sansa well. Still, she didn't like it. Robb's next words brought Arya's attention back to the room.

"I will be traveling to King's Landing to give Sansa away, Arya will be in charge until my return, with council from Maester Lewin, of course." He paused. "Arya, there is also a betrothal offer that I wish you to consider, although I would like you to stay at Winterfell until after my first child is born."

Arya swallowed thickly, this was a day that she had been dreading for much of her life. She stood up slowly. Robb wasn't ordering her, he was telling her to _consider_ a betrothal. "Who?" she asked quietly.

Robb gave her a gentle smile and handed her a sheet of parchment, it bore Renly's seal. She read it carefully, it was detailed and formally written. She read it again and shook her head. Her hand moved to the Valyrian steel keys around her neck. She handed the letter back to Robb. "This letter is from King Renly," She said quietly. "And I can understand why _he_ would want me to marry Gendry. But if this is what _Gendry_ wants then let him send a proposal himself."

Robb gave Arya an indulgent smile. "Arya, don't be pig –headed." He said quietly. "How many people get the chance to marry their closest friend?"

Arya understood what her brother was saying, but she still felt suddenly vulnerable. "Just because he's my friend doesn't mean he _wants_ to marry me." She said quietly. "If Renly is _making_ him do this the answer is no."

Robb raised an eyebrow at that. "So, if this is what Gendry wants then the answer is yes?" he clarified. Arya nodded slowly. Robb gave her a reassuring hug. "I'll talk to him while I'm down south, just don't start any wars while I'm away." He dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead then turned his attention back to the room and dismissed court.

~~/~~

Part 45:

It was almost seven weeks since Robb (and Theon) had gone south and Arya was starting to worry that she was expected to arrange Robb's wedding, or even that he would return in time for it. Nobles from all around the North were already starting to arrive, court was taking longer every day, and every waking minute seemed consumed with trying to appease the delicate sensibilities of one noble or another. The Glovers felt that the Karstarks had better rooms than them, the Karstarks complained that the Glovers had _more_ rooms than them, yet the Glovers had brought more people.

The Mountain Flints refused to be in the same building as the Flints of Widow's Watch, Flint's Finger or Breakstone Hill, claiming that as Arya Flint (of the Mountain Clan) had been Arya's great grandmother they should be shown more respect. Then an argument broke out as to which Flints were the 'First Flints', a claim the Mountain Flints held to strongly, this led to an argument over genealogy… finally Arya declared that if they were unwilling to share with the other Flints, perhaps they should ask House Cerwyn, which was half a day's ride away, if they could stay there until the day of the wedding?

"You're a hard one, Arya Stark." The old Flint (of the mountains) observed.

"Lord Torghen Flint, Robb has put me in charge until his return, if you don't like your accommodations you know where your mountain is." Arya replied firmly.

The old Flint held her gaze for a moment, then he knelt. "Princess Arya, when I heard our King had left his baby sister in charge I questioned if he was fit to rule. Upon meeting you I see that he has made a wise choice, as did your father by giving you a Flint name. Forgive an old man, your grace."

Being called 'your grace' still made Arya fell very uncomfortable, but she repressed the urge to refute the title, she stood and moved out from behind the table so that she was standing in front of him, she held out her hand and bid him stand. "Winter is coming, if you want to survive it you will put your petty differences aside. The other Houses of the North are not your enemies, they are your allies," She heard the main door opening but did not turn her head. "The coming winter will be worse than any seen in the last thousand years, when it comes we must all work together, against our common enemy."

"The Wildlings." Smalljon Umber, son of the Greatjon, muttered.

"No," Came Jon's voice from the back of the hall. "The White Walkers, I have seen them, they are real, and they are coming."

"Jon." Arya muttered, gods he was a sight for sore eyes! He was dressed in black, but then he was always dressed in black, there were Stark men and Wildlings around him, she recognised Tormund Giantsbane, there was one woman in the group, a red-haired woman with a bow. Without a second thought Arya made her way towards Jon, he walked quickly towards her as well, and they embraced around the middle of the Hall. Arya felt tears in her eyes as she hugged him. She still remembered his dead body lying limp at the foot of the weirwood, Sansa weeping over it. "You're home." She whispered as she hugged him tightly. "You're home."

He hugged her back just as tightly, but the moment was quickly broken as the Smalljon drew his sword and attempted to attack Tormund. Arya pulled back from Jon and had Needle at the Smalljon's throat in the time that it took Jon to put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Drawing that blade could be considered an act of treason." She said calmly, all emotion suddenly gone.

"He's brought damn Wildlings with him!" The Smalljon all but spat the words.

"Actually, we prefer the term 'Freefolk'." Tormund replied cockily.

"Tormund, shut up." Arya muttered. "Smalljon Umber, have you not been paying attention the last few months? Eddard Stark went North, in the name of King Robb, to negotiate terms both with the Nights Watch and the King Beyond the Wall. A long winter is coming, and the Army of the Dead comes with it, we will not help add one more body to their numbers, not even yours." Even to her own ears she sounded like Jon, the part of her that had lived before had heard that speech aimed at a Northern Lord many times, yet it felt strange for it to come from her lips. She had to do it though, Jon wasn't in a position to, not yet.

"The Wall has stood for over eight thousand years." The Smalljon snapped.

"Yes, and in four and a half years it will fail, and the dead will bring a cold unlike any you have ever felt." She said, she remembered the stories that Old Nan told, about the winter that had lasted a generation. She locked eyes with the Smalljon, still a big man, but smaller than his father. "Mothers will smother their babes in their cribs, instead of watching them starve, and weep, and feel their tears freeze on their cheeks." It was a twist on Old Nan's words, but maybe it would make him listen? "Our _only hope_ is to work with the Wildlings, to man all nineteen castles, and unite the realms of men against the Night King. Perhaps you need to see for yourself, the Nights Watch could make good use of you."

"You expect us to believe this? You expect us to believe that the Night King is real? What's next, you'll tell us that Giant's and the Children of the forest still exist?" Smalljon challenged, he moved to step closer to Arya but she pushed the tip of her blade into his neck, applying just enough pressure to draw a drop of blood.

"Would you like to see a giant?" The female Wildling asked, she stuck her head out of the door and yelled something in the old tongue, a few moments later both doors were thrown open and a fourteen foot tall giant ducked his head under the twelve foot high opening and entered the room. "This is Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, but you may call him 'Mag the Mighty' if you wish, his is a leader among his people, he only speaks the old tongue."

"Gods," Smalljon muttered, taking a step backwards.

"A giant breaking it's chains is your House's sigil, isn't it." Jon asked the Smalljon. "I suggest you break your own chains as well, break the chains of ignorance, and understand that we need to work together."

Smalljon nodded and slowly re-sheathed his sword. "And the Children of the Forest?"

Arya twirled her blade then re-sheathed it. "Bran is heading to them now, to learn from the Three Eyed Raven." She replied.

Smalljon nodded. "You Starks… Forgive me, I did not mean… I…"

Arya nodded. "Smalljon, I will pardon you, but I must also discuss your actions with King Robb upon his return. Greatjon, since the Giant is the sigil of your House I suggest you start making room for some of them, I will expect to know how many Wil- Freefolk, and how many Giants, your House is prepared to accommodate by King Robb's return." She turned her attention to Mag the Mighty. "Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, forgive me, I do not speak the old tongue." She paused and the female wildling translated. "Thank you for coming to Winterfell, I will do my best to ensure your needs are met, your people protected, and properly armed, our allies are already working on weapons." Every time she paused the wildling translated for her.

Mag said something in the old tongue and the woman translated for him. "He thanks you for saying his name correctly, and tells you that he looks forward to fighting beside you, although not right beside, as he is afraid he might step on you."

Arya laughed at that. "I am small," she agreed. "But fast, I promise to be difficult to step on."

The wildling translated her reply and Mag laughed, a booming laugh that rolled off of the walls of the Great Hall. He walked closer to her and people scurried out of his way, he bent down and held his massive hand out at her feet, he said something to her, although Arya didn't understand his words it was clear what he wanted, before the wildling could translate she had stepped up onto his hand, he lifted her up and gently placed her on his shoulder. He said something else and laughed again.

"He says he won't step on you if you're up there." The woman translated.

Arya smiled. "Tell him if I'm going to ride up here I'm going to need to learn how to talk to him." She caught a glance of the expression on Sandor Clegane's face. "And tell him he better put me down, my protector is angry at me."

Mag complied and Sandor gave her a look that said they would be discussing this later, arrangements were made and court was called to a close. As Winterfell had no bath that could hold Mag it was suggested that he might want to make use of the hot pools in the Godswood. Maester Lewin saw to accommodations, putting Mag in one of the stables as a temporary arrangement, Maester Lewin then rushed off to get a special bed and toilet made for him.

~~/~~

It turned out that by some grace of the gods Maester Lewin had studied the old tongue, although it had been many years ago, and he had never practiced it with somebody that actually spoke it, so his pronunciation was wrong… but Mag seemed to appreciate the attempts. Keeping a chieftain in the stables was not a good long term solution, but over supper, with the help of a couple of the Wildlings, they managed to outline a structure to be built for the giant.

Even sitting on the floor Mag towered above them all, and they ended up using a cooking pot as a cup for him, yet he seemed to appreciate that they were doing the best they could. Mag preferred water to wine or ale, thankfully, Arya was quite scared what damage a drunk giant might accidentally cause.

The next day a location was agreed upon and they started building a 'tall house' for the giant, the work went faster than expected as Mag was more than happy to help. It took two dozen men three days to get the bones of the building in place. The tall house was three stories tall, there was a human door and a giant door, one side of the building had three levels, to make it easier for humans to interact with him, but most of the building was one level three stories high.

Even though only the framing was in place Arya climbed up to the third level so she could get a sense of it, Mag saw her and smiled, he stepped into the area that would be his main room as Arya was standing on the edge of the platform. Arya sat down so that they were at eye level, yes, this would work. Arya reached out her hand and Mag gently took it in his much larger one. They were still like that, Arya sitting and Mag standing, when horn's blew in the distance. Arya moved to stand but Mag turned in surprise and knocked Arya from her peach. He caught her just in time and gently placed her on the ground. He looked genuinely concerned that he had hurt her, or that she was now scared of him. Although a little shaken, Arya gave him her best smile and signalled that she wanted him to put her on his shoulder. He obliged and they headed to the gate to see what the noise was.

~~/~~

A small fleet of boats had come up the White Knife from White Habor, the boats blazed Manderly flags, but also Stark, Baratheon, Tyrell, and more. Grey Wind was one of the first off of the boats, and as soon as he saw the giant he started to grow.

"Grey Wind, sit!" Arya demanded.

The poor confused direwolf looked up at Arya then back at Robb, Robb repeated the command and Grey Wind obeyed. Then Ghost was out of the gate and the two direwolves were reuniting, sniffing each other and running in circles. A number of the northern lords came out, and some of the wildlings, Jon was amongst them, and Tormund, and the red-head named Ygritte. Ygritte moved closer to Arya and Mag, ready to translate.

Robb rushed up to Jon and hugged him fiercely as others spilt off of the boats. Renly was there and Margaery, she was heavily pregnant… Loras and Brienne were among the guard… Olenna Tyrell came off of one boat, and Oberyn Martell off of another… Theon, Asha and three of the Sand Snakes were on the same boat as Oberyn… and so many others. Arya scanned the faces, looking for those she knew, eventually she saw Ser Davos, a couple of men in Baratheon colours were behind him carrying a crate, but there was no sign of Gendry. It made sense, she guessed, it wasn't wise to risk the King and the Crown Prince to attend a distant wedding… but if the choice had been hers Renly could have stayed at King's Landing.

Once everybody was off of the boats Mag lifted her down gently and introductions were done, the rest of the day was lost to getting the guests settled and planning the wedding, the sound of hammering constant in the background as Mag's house continued to be built.

~~/~~


	10. Chapters 46 - 50

Part 46:

The day had been long, seeing to all the new guests had been a challenge which had kept Arya on her feet for hours, while Jon tried to keep the Wildlings… _Freefolk_ , she had to remember to start calling them 'Freefolk'… from causing any dramas. Mag, it seemed, enjoyed the unintended scene caused by Arya riding out to meet Robb on his shoulder, whilst Sandor was clearly pissed at her for letting the giant carry her. But there were bigger issues than that to worry about.

The High Septon had travelled north with Robb to perform the wedding, he seemed quite disheartened at the sight of the small wooden sept, and even more so when Robb advised him that the wedding would not take place in the sept, but in the godswood.

Olenna Tyrell complained about, well, everything and anything. Oberyn Martell seemed to have a permanent smirk on his face and was quite interested in Mag. Brienne had come with the King's guard and she instantly caught Tormund's eye, which was both hilarious and troubling. During the feast Jon had to divert Tormund's attention from her many times to avoid a scene. Jon had chosen to sit with the Freefolk and Mag, while Arya had found herself somehow forced into the top table. (Or should she say _tables_? Three tables had been pushed together to accommodate the royal guests.) It was only as dinner progressed, and she was at liberty to move around, that she managed to get anywhere near Jon.

Breakfast the next day was no better, the Manderley's, King Renly, and the Tyrell's joined them at the breakfast table. Theon walked into the room, took one look around at all of the people, and their guards, and walked back out again, muttering something about breaking fast somewhere that a cat could be swung.

Olenna Tyrell tried to make a fuss about Jon's presence, but Robb shut her down quickly and Renly tried to laugh the whole exchange off. Then Margaery carefully entered the room, leaning heavily on her brother's arm, and drawing everybody's attention. Arya hadn't realised quite how pregnant Margaery was in the commotion of the previous day. She looked as if she was close to due, or even overdue, why had she travelled so close to her time?!

One of Margaery's hand maidens pulled out her chair and Renly and Loras helped her lower herself down to it. "This is so embarrassing." She muttered with a sweet smile, and placed a hand on her extremely pregnant belly. "I cannot wait for this child to be born… for so many reasons."

Robb frowned, concern clear on his face. "You really didn't need to come all the way here for our wedding, especially in your state."

Margaery smiled at him. "Sweet Robb, I missed your coronation, I'm not missing your wedding as well, besides, I'm finding the cooler climate agreeable."

"Folly, absolute folly." Olenna Tyrell muttered. "You are nearly nine months pregnant, with your first child, you should have stayed at Kings Landing."

Margaery raised an eyebrow at her grandmother's outburst. "You suffer a prodding or two from Grand Maester Pycelle, then say that to me again, _grandmother._ "

Olenna shook her head. "Oh come now child, he's just doing his job."

Margaery shook her head. "Then he does it poorly, and his track record with new mothers and new born babes bears me no comfort… a birthing bed on his watch is almost a death sentence."

"So you'd rather give birth on the ship back to King's Landing?" Olenna snapped.

"I'll take my chances with it." Margaery replied. "Or maybe I should just stay at Winterfell until my little king is born? Maester Lewin has never lost a Stark." She aimed the full power of her smile at Wynafryd. "Good news for you, Wynni."

Arya almost choked on her water, but she was helpless to argue as Robb and Wynafryd offered, nay, insisted, that Margaery stay until after the child was born and fit to travel. Wynafryd seemed quite innocent to the fact that Margaery was manipulating the situation, and Robb never even seemed to realise that he had just invited a small army to stay for months. Breakfast became even more difficult to endure as the wedding became the topic of discussion. Arya felt completely out of place, this was a conversation better suited for Sansa, when she felt that she could tolerate no more she asked to be excused.

"Oh, other pressing matters to attend to? Tell me, what so urgently requires your attention?" Olenna snapped.

"Ayrmidon's **_Engines of War_**." Arya replied calmly, she would not let the queen of thorns rattle her. "I'll be in the Library preparing for Daenerys and her dragons, and I'm having lunch with Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg and Ygritte, they're teaching me the old tongue, which will be useful if we wish the giants to take us seriously. I am more suited for war than weddings, so, unless there is court, I'll see you all at supper."

"Some of those diagrams are quite involved, would you like some help?" Jon offered. Arya smiled at him and nodded, Ghost and Sandor followed behind them as they exited the crowded room. "Thank you, I needed an escape." Jon muttered once they were well out of earshot. "That room was not designed for that many people."

They walked in silence for a while, Arya sent a messenger for Maester Lewin, so that she could access the dragon book, and stationed Sandor at the bottom of the tower with strict instructions as to whom was, and wasn't, allowed in.

As they were going up the stairs of the Library tower Jon cleared his throat to get Arya's attention. "So… you seem to be spending quite a bit of time with Ygritte… you like her?"

Arya frowned, Jon seemed surprisingly nervous about her opinion. "She's interesting." Arya replied.

Jon chuckled. "Yes, she is that… but you didn't answer the question."

Arya stopped on the stairs and turned to face Jon, she was a couple of steps ahead of him so she was almost at eye level. "That's because I don't understand what you're really asking."

Jon looked down and then looked back up at Arya. "I… I like her… but I don't know how much I can trust her… I want to trust her… but I already broke her trust once… she's quite angry about it…" He chuckled. "She put three arrows in me."

"She what!" Arya exclaimed in shock.

"When I left the wildlings to return to Castle Black, she put three arrows in me." Jon replied.

Arya shook her head. "If she was a decent shot she should have been able to kill you with one."

Jon nodded. "She is more than a decent shot, she didn't want to kill me."

Arya shook her head. "Let's talk about this upstairs, it sounds like a long conversation."

Once they were settled in the special part of the library, and Maester Lewin had left them to it, they began to talk about everything that had happened since they had left Winterfell, they didn't get much transcribing done, but Arya learnt a lot of things about Jon that she hadn't known in the other life, and Jon learnt a lot of things about what had happened to her. More importantly, he believed her. She held nothing back, she even told him about his relationship with Daenerys in the other life… and about how he had died.

Jon didn't judge her for using blood magic, or question her visions, he did turn a little pale at being told Ros was Robb's sister… Arya went to have lunch with Mag and Ygritte while Jon started transcribing the dragon book, _Unnatural History_ , and when she returned he was head down in the book. Arya quietly placed a plate of food near him, but away from the books and scrolls, and went back to trying to replicate the diagrams in Engines of War.

~~/~~

"What about this one?" Arya asked, throwing another of Sansa's discarded dresses at Ygritte, Sansa would not be returning for any of the cloths she had left behind and Arya had gotten Robb's permission to sort through them and give some to Ygritte.

Ygritte held it up an examined it. "The stitching on this is amazing, must be nice to have other people sew for you." Ygritte muttered.

Arya shrugged. "Sansa made it herself, she's made a lot of her dresses, although mother made some. I'm no good at it."

Ygritte looked at her surprised. "You're telling me your highborn sister makes her own clothes?"

Arya nodded. "Yes, Septa Mordane always used to berate me for my needlework not being anywhere as good as hers. Don't ask me to make you anything unless you want crooked stitches."

Ygritte shook her head. "Maybe there's more to you Southerners that meets the eye." She muttered.

Arya shrugged. "Try on the dress."

Ygritte obeyed, she stripped down and pulled on the dress, it fitted, but it was a little tight around the stomach. Arya frowned, she was missing something. _Look with your eyes._ Ygritte was slim, even skinny, her arms and legs were toned, her body was firm, that pot wasn't fat… she was pregnant! Did Jon know?

"What do you think?" Ygritte asked, suddenly sounding nervous.

Arya just nodded. "That's the dress you are going to wear tomorrow. Everybody is going to be after baths, we should arrange for one for you this afternoon."

Ygritte nodded and changed back into her other clothes. Arya made the arrangements with the servants, all the while pondering how to approach Ygritte's pregnancy and relationship with Jon, she found no answers.

~~/~~

The next morning dawned bright and crisp, everything was about the wedding. Arya was required at a female only breakfast which included Wynafryd and her sister, Wylla, her mother, Leona, Olenna and Margaery Tyrell. The focus was completely on the bride, which made sense, Arya let her thoughts drift, focusing on the question of Ygritte and Jon, but she was soon called back as Wynafryd tried to draw her attention.

"Arya, where were you?" Wynafryd asked with a gentle smile.

"Sorry," Arya muttered. "As I said, I'm better at war than weddings." Suddenly an idea occurred to her. "Wynafryd, I know this is your day, but if the North is to work with the wildlings… _freefolk…_ and make a conscious effort to integrate them, wouldn't it be a good idea to include one or two of them in the ceremony."

"Hmph, it's a little late to be changing things now, child." Olenna scoffed.

Wynafryd however shook her head. "What were you thinking?"

Arya shrugged. "Well there is only one female Wil – Freefolk here…"

"Ygritte." Wynafryd said with a smile. "Do you think she would want to?"

Arya shrugged. "I think she'd like to be asked."

"Come now, the girl doesn't even have a dress." Olenna protested.

"Grandmother," Margaery said touching Olenna's arm. "We are capable women, I'm sure we can come up with something."

"Robb said Arya and Ygritte were looking through Sansa's old things to see if they could find something, were you successful, Arya." Arya nodded. "Why don't you go change into your dress, and get Ygritte to change into hers, then meet us back here and we'll all do our hair together." Wynafryd suggested.

"Oh what? And should we ask the Red Viper's bastard daughters to take part as well? Olenna snapped.

"Grandmother!" Margaery exclaimed.

Wynafryd however looked thoughtful. "You know, that is a brilliant idea, thank you, Lady Olenna, I never would have thought of that. Mother, would you be kind enough to extend the invitation to Obara, Nym and Tyene personally?"

Leona nodded and stood up. "Of course, darling."

"Oh, this is going to be perfect." Wynafryd exclaimed, clasping Margaery's hand. "The North has always been so very insular, with the exception of offering House Manderly a home when we were forced from Dunstonbury, it is past overdue that the North built friendships with the South." She dropped Margaery's hand and turned her attention to her sister. "Wylla, why don't you see if Asha Greyjoy wishes to join us as well?"

Arya smiled and left to go fetch Ygritte, she had seen both Olenna and Margaery's expressions darken at the mention of Dunstonbury, maybe Wynafryd wasn't as innocent of Margaery's manipulations as Arya had initially thought?

~~/~~

Part 47:

It took over two hours to do everybody's hair. Margaery, although not actually part of the wedding party, kept herself and her hand maidens involved for as long as she possibly could, but as the morning moved on Loras soon arrived to collect her and Olenna so that they might take their places in the godswood. Chairs had been arranged for both of them, everybody else would stand.

It was almost eleven o'clock when Wylis Manderly came to led them to the godswood, there was a path, edged with flower petals, and people lined at least ten deep all along each side of it, guards keeping them back. The godswood itself was even more packed than it had been for Robb's coronation. The wedding was long, the High Septon attempting to get as much out of his sermon as he possibly could. Eventually the marriage proper happened, there was the giving of the bride, the removing and placing of cloaks, but instead of a cloak of House Stark, Robb placed a cloak of furs and pearls over Wynafryd's shoulders. The wording was also subtlety changed as a royal name cannot be gained through marriage, only inherited via birthright, Wynafryd would always be a Manderly.

Then there was a hand binding ceremony, although as it was done Robb and Wynafryd listed the names of the Seven, again combining the Old Gods and the New. Once the ceremony was done Robb and Wynafryd led everybody to the feast, hands still bound. Robb and Wynafryd kept their hands bound during the feast, which meant that they needed to work as one to help each other eat. There was feasting and dancing, giving of gifts and speeches.

At some stage in the late afternoon Ygritte slipped into the empty seat beside Arya. "Why do you Southerners make weddings so complicated?" She asked, looking genuinely confused.

Arya frowned, yes Robb had used a mix of Northern and Southern traditions and included every aspect that a marriage in the name of the Seven required, Northern weddings usually happened later in the day so that a bedding could happen straight after the feast, but it wasn't that complicated. She had once heard that weddings in Volantis could last for three days.

"What are weddings like north of the wall?" Arya asked.

Ygritte rolled her eyes. "Well first the man has to steal the woman, the better the man, the further he will steal her from, a man from a close clan may be a blood relation, so the further away the better."

"Wait, you mean the men are _expected_ to abduct the woman?!" Arya asked, horrified.

Ygritte nodded. "And the woman is expected to fight back, no matter how attractive the man is to her, no man wants a weak woman. A true man will steal a woman from far away to strengthen the clan. Men must steal daughters, but not wives of other men, that's punishable by death or worse. When the Thief is in the Moonmaid, that's the best time for a man to steal a woman."

"The what?" Arya asked confused.

Ygritte sighed. "Stars. The Thief is one that moves and the Moonmaid is a group of stars that tend to stay together."

"A constellation." Arya muttered.

"A what?" Ygritte screwed up her face.

"A constellation," Arya replied. "A group of stars that tends to move together."

Ygritte shook her head. "You southerners just have to make everything harder, don't you?"

"More difficult." Arya muttered.

Ygritte groaned and stood up. "Forget it." She muttered and started to walk away.

"Wait!" Arya called out, more loudly than she had intended to. "Is that all it takes for two Freefolk to be married?"

People turned and started paying attention to their conversation but Arya didn't care, she _knew_ this conversation was important, but she was missing something. She started going over what Jon had told her about him and Ygritte, she knew he'd left stuff out, but she was on the edge of working something out.

"No." Ygritte replied. "Any man can take a woman, but getting her to stay is another story. With Freefolk the woman chooses the man as much as the man chooses the woman. If the man can win the woman over before the woman kills him, if he can get her to willingly lay with him, then they are considered married."

Suddenly all of the pieces fell into place. "But Jon wasn't free when you chose him." The words poured out of Arya's mouth before she could think, she didn't _have_ to think about it, she _knew_. "Jon didn't know, he didn't realise that you considered yourself married to him when he returned to Castle Black, he had taken a vow that said he could not marry."

The room was suddenly silent, even the musicians had stopped playing, suddenly Ygritte spoke. "And now he has been released from that vow." She turned and quickly made her way out of the hall, everybody watching her as she went.

Arya looked around the hall for Jon, she finally saw him standing beside Robb and Wynafryd, frozen in shock. Robb regained his composure first, and gave Jon a light shove towards the door. "Go, go after her."

Jon nodded and started heading towards the door, he walked the first few steps, then broke into a run, people quickly moved out of his way, but Loras was too slow and got barged aside. The door slammed loudly in the silence. Slowly people began to murmur, then mutter, and then the talking got louder and louder. Robb signalled for the musicians to start playing again. A very drunk Tormund lent into Mag, apparently explaining to him what had just happened. An hour later neither Jon nor Ygritte had returned and Arya could still hear lots of people whispering about what had happened. Arya needed a way to draw their attention elsewhere, her gaze moved to Robb and Wynafryd and suddenly she had her answer.

"I think it's time for a bedding." She muttered.

One of the people near her heard her words and repeated them, then another, then another. Robb laughed and Wynafryd smiled. Arya stood back and let others take control of the bedding, half the hall left with the bride and groom, unfortunately anybody that remained suddenly became Arya's responsibility. She slowly made her way up to the top table and reclaimed her seat, a servant offered her wine and she asked for water instead, as she lifted her cup Oberyn Martell caught her eye and raised his cup to her, she replied in kind before drinking. He slowly approached her and took a seat beside her.

"A most curious day, wouldn't you say, Princess Arya?"

"Say what you mean, Prince Oberyn, you are clearly playing at something, but what?" Arya replied sharply, she wasn't in the mood for games.

"Ah, I do find Stark's so refreshing, you cut to the point the way ice chills to the bone. I prefer the warmth of Dorne myself, even if our sand does get a touch… fiery."

"Both ice and fire can burn," Arya replied. "Have you ever seen toes turned black by frostbite?"

"Yes actually, when I was at the Citadel." Oberyn replied.

Arya nodded, she remembered hearing something about that. "Right, you have six links, but not a chain." She countered.

Oberyn laughed. "I confess, I enjoy the company of women far too much to become a Maester. You're a smart one, observant, you _see_. Can you guess what metals the links are?"

Arya frowned. "First tell me, is silver for poisons as well as medicine?"

Oberyn laughed. "Yes, very good, what else?"

Arya smirked. "Well you have two of those, one straight silver, one with a gem inset…Topaz?"

Oberyn looked intrigued. "That's an interesting guess why would you say Topaz?"

Arya shrugged. "Anybody delving in poisons needs protection, Topaz is the opposite intent to poison so provides balance."

Oberyn smirked, he pulled the chain out of a hidden pocket and placed it in Arya's hand. She had been correct about the first two links, there was a black iron link, Ravenry, an iron link, Warcraft, and two Valyrian steel links, one inset with a chip of Black Tourmaline, the other with a Ruby chip. He lent in closer to her. "Tell me, Yellow Lady, how did the Bolton men die?"

She carefully handed the chain back to him. "I don't know." She replied.

He nodded and sat back. "I don't know? That is the only answer everybody give me, how can an entire army, in three separate locations, just suddenly die?"

Arya shrugged. "I would tell you to ask Roose, but I hear a direwolf ripped out his throat."

Oberyn nodded. "I've heard that; a direwolf ripped out his throat, then the winds howled, his men froze solid, yet the solders feet away from them were untouched, winter winds roared through the Dreadfort, the earth shook, and the walls came tumbling down."

Arya shrugged. "If you say so, I wasn't here."

Oberyn shrugged, he sat back and seemed to look more relaxed. "I guess we all die sooner or later."

Arya nodded. "Death is certain, the time is not."

Oberyn seemed intrigued by her reply. "What gods do you follow, the old or the new?" He asked.

Arya smiled. "You've been to Essos, you know the truth, there is only one true god, you know his name, and there is only one thing we say to him."

"Not today." Oberyn replied quietly. "The Night King, he's real, isn't he?"

Arya nodded. "Yes, but he's not a god."

"Ah, Doran was right, I should have listened… how long do we have?" Oberyn asked.

"About four and a half years." Arya replied. "Less if we try and involve Daenerys' dragons and give one to him sooner, in my dreams he breaks the will with Viserion."

Oberyn shook his head. "But surely…"

"No, Daenerys' dragons were born by death magic, if anything they are weak to his influence." Arya replied. That had been their biggest mistake, once the Night King had gained a dragon things had gone from bad to worse very quickly.

Oberyn scoffed at that. "And where are you going to find dragons born by life magic?"

"Why does one of your silver links have Topaz on it?" Arya replied.

"Balance… nature always brings balance… and so does magic… but never where, or how, we expect. You are playing with dangerous things, Arya Stark."

"I'm not playing." Arya replied. "We need every Valyrian or dragon bone weapon we can find, every piece of Dragonglass, every weapon of power. When winter comes, will Dorne join us in the fight for the morning, regardless of whom sits on the Iron Throne, or will you sit back and wait to die?"

Oberyn shook his head. "The Dornish Lords will be difficult to convince."

"And since when is the Red Viper afraid of difficult?" Arya challenged.

Oberyn nodded. "You have given me much to think on, Yellow Lady." He put his cup down on the table and walked away. Arya noticed with surprise that he had also been drinking water.

~~/~~

Part 48:

The next two days after the Wedding were spent mainly in celebration by most. Court did happen, but it was as brief as possible, with any non-urgent business being delayed. On the third day 'Full Court' was called and many matters were discussed from the mundane to the absolutely boring. At one stage Arya was distracted by the sound of Ghost lightly snoring, she glanced over and noticed that he and Grey Wind were curled together at the far end of the table. Eventually one of the many Lords raised the question of a throne being commissioned.

Robb laughed. "No King of Winter has ever required a throne, or somebody to herald that they are King, I'll get my fancy seat when I am in the Crypts, just like every King of Winter before me. Besides, I like being at the same level as my advisors, I would trust any person at this table to take charge in my absence."

That was quite a statement considering that Wynafryd was sitting on his left, then Arya, then Maester Lewin, and Jon was sitting on his right, then Theon. Matters continued to be discussed, eventually Ser Davos stepped forward, two Baratheon soldiers bringing forward the crate that Arya had noticed when they had first arrived.

"You're grace, as you are aware I have two matters to bring before your court." He waved the men back and opened the chest. He pulled aside a layer of fabric, revealing a handful of swords, spear tips and maybe two dozen arrowheads. "If I may?"

Robb nodded. "Of course, Ser Davos."

Davos carefully removed a longsword, he looked to Robb for permission and then drew it. Half of the court gasped, many hands going to the hilts of swords, yet Davos remained calm and continued to speak. "This blade was forged by Tobho Mott at Dragonstone, it was created in a forge that had been designed to work Valyrian Steel. The forge had never been used, House Targaryen failed to secure a blacksmith of such skill prior to the fall of old Valyria. Yet the forge still gave him clues. This is not Valyrian steel, but it's damn better than Castle-forged. The question is; is it good enough against the Night King's walkers? This chest is full of different combinations of this metal and Dragonglass. Prince Gendry is willing to commit years to the making, and distributing, of these weapons, but there is no point if they don't work. Until some brave souls are willing to go find the enemy, and work out which weapons we should be making, there is little point in him continuing."

Davos passed the blade, hilt first, to the closest Lord so that he could look at it. The blade _looked_ like Valyrian steel from where Arya was sitting. As the blade passed around the room people began to mutter.

Finally the Greatjon stepped forward. "I volunteer my son, Smalljon, since he seems incapable of believing in anything he doesn't see with his own two eyes." He declared.

Robb stood. "No, no man can be forced to go, that is why the matter was brought here, not to the Night's Watch."

"I'm not afraid!" Smalljon snapped. "I'll go." He looked into the crate and rummaged around a bit before pulling out a Greatsword, he drew the blade and examined it. "Hmm, lighter than I expected." He muttered, testing the weapon. "Well balanced though, it will do."

Jon stood up "We'll have two Jon's then, I'm going, and Tormund would skin me alive if I even tried to leave him out of this one, he'll want to come."

Robb shook his head. "Jon, no, we just got you back."

"With all due respect, _your grace_ , I have a Valyrian steel blade, and it's not my first time North of the Wall. You need me to go, you may not want it, but you need it."

Robb sighed. "Fine, but first you're marrying Ygritte in front of the Weirwood, and she stays. If I can't protect you, I can at least protect your child."

Arya stood up slowly. "No!" Rob and Jon both said firmly.

Arya nodded. "I know, I was just going to suggest that somebody should send for Tormund and Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg so that they can be part of this discussion." She reached to her belt and removed the Valyrian dagger. "And just because I'm not going doesn't mean my Valyrian blade isn't needed." She tossed the dagger to Sandor. "Please, keep Jon alive."

Sandor moved from his place, at the side of the table, to in front of the table and bowed deeply. "Thank you." He said, then walked over to the crate and pulled out another Greatsword. He drew it, tested the weight and balance, then re-sheathed it. "Better than what I have." He muttered, he then took a place near the Smalljon. Jon also rounded the table, so that the three of them were standing together.

Oberyn walked over to the chest, as a messenger left to get Tormund and Mag, and picked up a spear head in each hand, looking at them inquisitively. One was straight metal, the other Dragonglass. "Looks like you have two different types of spear you want tested." With an elegant flick of the wrist he tossed the metal one to Obara. "Are you coming?"

Obara smiled. "Yes, Father, I choose the spear." She replied with a smirk, then pointed to the spear held in his hand. "But, I choose that one." She turned her attention to Davos. "And I'll not be giving it back." Obara walked up to her father and swapped spare heads with him, then they both walked up to join the group.

Tyene and Nym shared a look. "We're in." Tyene announced.

"No, you are not." Oberyn replied firmly. "Your fighting styles are less suited to this enemy, besides, Tyene, your mother would never forgive me."

"But father!" Tyene pouted.

Oberyn laughed. "Such brave girls I have, will any man here match them?" He asked the court.

That provoked a snort of a laugh from Asha Greyjoy. "Unlikely, but _I'm_ curious." She strode over to the chest just as Mag and Tormund entered the hall. She poked at a couple of items and frowned. "Do you have any axes?" She asked Davos.

Davos smiled, he carefully lifted the fabric that the spear tips were laying on and placed the bundle on the ground, he moved the arrow heads next, he then pulled out two axe heads one large and heavy, the other was smaller, more of a throwing axe depending on the handle. "Big or small?" He asked, holding the two axe heads up.

Tormund snatched the larger axe head out of Davos' hands. "I'll take that." He said. "And the arrowheads could be used to stud a club for our mighty friend here." He then took a place beside Jon, Mag beside him.

Asha just smiled. "Do you have two of those?" Davos nodded and pulled out an axe head of the same style, but mostly dragon glass. Asha smiled. "You realise I'm keeping these, right?" Davos nodded and sighed.

"Five men, a giant, and two women." King Renly noted. "I think we can do better than that, therefore I offer one of my best, Ser Brienne, would you be my eyes beyond the Wall?"

"Your Grace, surely-" Ser Loras began to protest.

Renly placed a hand on Loras' arm, silencing him. "Brave Ser Loras, your honour is beyond question, as is your courage, yet you are newly wed, for Sansa's sake I forbid you to take part in this. Besides, you serve me better by staying at Margaery's side." He returned his attention to Brienne. "Ser Brienne, what do you say?"

Brienne smiled, she plucked the longsword out of a lords hands, some Flint or other if Arya recalled correctly, and tested the feel of it. "I am happy to serve, your grace." She glanced at Loras then smirked. "A pity there are no maces, though."

Davos smiled. "You are right, Ser Brienne, that there are no maces in the crate, but one mace has been made, or a Morningstar to be exact, by Prince Gendry's own hand. My instructions were to offer it to you if you volunteered, and not before. After all, Prince Gendry has witnessed your prowess with such a weapon."

Arya couldn't help but smirk. "I remember, at Storms End, when you defeated Ser Loras." She announced to the court, she watched Loras' face redden at the reminder.

Davos signalled to one of his men and an object rapped in thick fabric was brought forward. Davos walked over to Brienne and gave her both the sheath to the longsword and the bundle, Brienne unwrapped it to reveal a Morningstar which was an elaborate mix of dragon glass and the special metal, as Brienne turned the weapon it alternately looked like a sun or a moon, the symbols of her House.

Brienne was gobsmacked. "I have done nothing to deserve this." She muttered.

"Princess Arya's faith in you is all Prince Gendry needs." Ser Davos replied. "Oh, and you won't be giving that back."

Brienne nodded and bowed deeply. "Please tell Prince Gendry that I am honoured."

Davos shook his head. "You can tell him yourself, Lady-Knight, after you return. He wishes to discuss how the weapon preforms with you personally."

Brienne nodded and took her place amongst the rest of the group, she was careful to stand as far away from Tormund as possible. Basic plans were outlined, but it was clear that the group needed to plan in more detail, they were dismissed to discuss the matter privately and Jon turned to lead them out of the courtroom then paused.

"Your Grace, cousin, Ser Davos' other business. I would like to see that addressed before we leave."

Robb nodded. "Of course."

Arya frowned, what other possible business could Ser Davos have that both Robb and Jon knew but she didn't? She watched as one of the Baratheon guards handed Davos a long bundle that looked suspiciously like a sword. It was wrapped in yellow and black fabric.

"Might I approach, your grace?" Davos asked.

Robb nodded and Davos began to approach the table, but he wasn't approaching Robb, he was approaching her. Wynafryd leant over and whispered in her ear. "You might want to stand."

Arya frowned, but did as Wynafryd suggested. Davos stopped several steps before the table and knelt, holding up the bundle. "Princess Arya, King Robb has told Prince Gendry that you rejected the marriage proposal because it was not in his words, Prince Gendry is not good with words, he is however good at crafting things. This is not meant as a replacement for Needle, but a compliment, Prince Gendry has spent many months working on it, with Tobho Mott's assistance. He hopes it will speak louder than anything that he could put to parchment."

Arya swallowed thickly and quickly rounded the table, taking the offered bundle from Davos' hands, as she began to unwrap the sword she realised that the fabric was actually a banner of House Baratheon! She unwrapped it carefully and let out a gasp. Even sheathed the sword was impressive. The hilt was carved black dragon bone, like the hilt of her dagger, but where her dagger had Rubies inset in it the sword had huge yellow stones inlayed in silver… no, not silver… if she didn't know better she would say it was Valyrian Steel, the cross hilt had a scaled pattern to it, she ran her fingers over it and her eyes widened, it looked like part of Dragonsteel's shell! "Is it inlayed with dragon shell?" She asked.

Davos nodded. "Prince Gendry found a stash of Dragon bone, and you know where he found the Dragon shell, it's been well tested and seems harder than any metal, they had to use diamonds to cut it."

Arya nodded, then she frowned, running her fingers over one of the yellow gems. "The stone is unusual, I don't know it?"

Davos' small broadened. "In mining the Dragonglass a very small vain of Diamonds was accidently discovered, a few of them were coloured, which is very, very rear, Gendry traded some of them to get an expert gem cutter from Qohor to come cut the best of them for your sword."

Arya nodded. She pulled the blade and examined it, Gendry had made her a narrowed (and slightly shortened) longsword, the metal really _did_ look like Valyrian steel. "So are we calling this new metal 'New Valyrian' or 'Dragonstone-steel'?" She asked calmly.

"We're testing it first." Davos replied.

Arya nodded and re-sheathed the sword. "Does it have a name?" She asked.

"Only if you name it, Princess." Davos replied.

Arya frowned, for a few seconds she struggled and failed to think of a name, then Syrio Forel's advice came to her, she stopped trying to think, she looked with her eyes, felt with her skin… Ygritte had taught her that the Old Tongue word for yellow was 'melyn' … women of House Stark were often referred to as Blue Roses, but she was the Yellow Lady… "Rhosyn Melyn." She whispered.

"Is that a yes, Princess." Davos asked.

Arya nodded, her expression still serious. "Yes." She whispered.

The Hall broke out into cheers. Arya signalled Davos to stand, more so she could hide behind him than for any other reason, but it didn't work. Jon rushed forward and hugged her. Robb and Wynafryd weren't far behind, then Renly insisted on a hug as well. Luckily court was called to a close and Arya could soon slink away to deal with her embarrassment, she slipped off to the godswood to practice with her new sword.

~~/~~

Quick reference of who has what weapons in the party going north.

 **Smalljon** – Dragonstone-Steel Greatsword  
 **Jon** – Longclaw  
 **Tormund** – Dragonstone-Steel Great axe  
 **Mag** – Club studded with Dragonstone-Steel and Dragonglass arrowheads  
 **Sandor** – Dragonstone-Steel Greatsword + Arya's Valyrian dagger  
 **Oberyn** – Dragonstone-Steel Spear  
 **Obara** – Dragonglass Spear  
 **Asha** – Twin Throwing Axes, one Dragonstone-Steel, one mostly Dragonglass with some Dragonstone-Steel  
 **Brienne** – Dragonstone-Steel Longsword and Dragonstone-Steel and Dragonglass Morningstar

~~/~~

Part 49:

No matter where Arya turned people were talking about weddings, engagements, or pregnancies, and it didn't help that _her_ engagement was one of the hottest topics of conversation. The group going north of the Wall spent much of their time in Mag's tall house planning, but Robb had forbidden her to take part in that. She wasn't the only one being left out of the loop though, Ygritte was furious at being excluded from the mission going north of the Wall, and the meetings about it. She had yelled at Jon, at Tormund, at Robb… she had even fumed at Arya.

Jon had pulled Ygritte off to the godswood to talk to her, that had been an hour ago and they still hadn't come back. Arya was sure that Jon was going to tell Ygritte his true name, he would have to if he was going to marry her, but the thought of it made Arya nervous. She wanted to trust Ygritte, and she wanted Jon to be happy, but she simply didn't know the woman well enough. She decided she needed to do something about that, but what? Trust wasn't something she was good at, yet she doubted that it was something Ygritte was good at either.

Arya sighed, she didn't know what to do, instead she decided to make her way to the library to continue her transcribing. As she was crossing one of the courtyards she saw Ser Davos talking with Renly, Davos looked cornered, he seemed uncomfortable and in need of an escape, she altered her course.

"Renly, Davos." She greeted.

"Princess Arya." Renly replied with more enthusiasm than was necessary. "Ser Davos and I were just discussing the surprising discovery of a diamond mine, I'm surprised Gendry never said anything about it."

"Well, not a mine exactly, your grace, just a small vein, very small… only a few stones really." Ser Davos muttered nervously. He looked to Arya and silently pleaded for help, she obliged.

"I'm sure Gendry can handle it," She reassured Renly. "And why would he bother you with such a minor thing? As a King, and a man that is soon to be a father, you have much more important things to concern yourself with."

Renly laughed, but it seemed forced and did not meet his eyes. "Perhaps, but he is not very experienced with such thing, such a heavy burden is a concern. I don't think he quite understands the value of what he's found, young Arya, that sword on your hip is worth a small fortune."

Arya smiled and let her hand drift to Rhosyn Melyn. "Then it's a good thing that he has a former smuggler to advise him. Ser Davos appreciates the value of such things, don't you, Davos?"

"Yes, I do your grace… your graces, precious gems are one thing I was always good at, I know a pirate or two whom are still good at them, Prince Gendry is getting a fair price. As to Princess Arya's sword, _that_ was designed to help against the Night King, as she has a tendency to go charging towards danger, not away from it."

Renly couldn't help but smirk at that. "Yes, that's true." He frowned. "I just worry for him, you know, he's never had that sort of money before."

"I'm good with numbers, once Robb has a child I will be there to look through the books, if anybody has ripped him off I'll deal with it, I promise." Arya reassured Renly. "Don't begrudge Gendry a few valuable rocks, he'll likely spend most of them on feeding his people, come winter the harvests from the Reach will hold far more value, what are some shiny rocks compared to that?"

"Exactly, as Princess Arya says, your grace, just a handful of shiny rocks."

Renly nodded reluctantly. "It was just a little embarrassing to learn about the… shiny stones, the way I did."

Davos shrugged. "No disrespect intended, your grace, it just didn't seem that important."

Arya nodded. "Not important at all." She agreed. "Now, I need to steal Davos away from you, I'm sure you have plenty of important people to speak with." Before Renly could reply she placed a hand firmly on Davos' elbow and guided him towards the library tower.

"Thank you, princess." Davos whispered once they were out of earshot.

Arya nodded and glanced at the two guards trailing him, she didn't know them, which Baratheon did they truly serve? She decided that it didn't matter, she stationed them at the bottom of the tower and headed up to the room with her unfinished transcripts. With all the guests in the keep the books she was allowed access to, and her unfinished work, had been moved to a private room in the tower and she had been given a key, she locked the door behind them after they entered the room.

Davos looked around, there were piles of books and transcripts everywhere, all old or damaged in the fire, or needing recopying for some other reason. There were two wooden tables, one stacked high with books and manuscripts, the other mostly clear, apart from Arya's work.

"I never did understand books." He muttered.

"There's a lot of knowledge in them." Arya replied.

"Yes, and a lot of lies." Davos replied. "My wife and my son were always pushing me to learn to read…"

Gods, Davos' son, she had almost forgotten. "Matthos, yes?"

Davos gave a heavy sigh and sat down in one of the chairs scattered around the room. "Yes, not that I'm likely to ever see him again."

 _"We will meet again, Arya Stark." Melisandre told her, as she turned away Arya realised that the red witch was holding an_ _ **onion**_ _in her hand. Arya looked around and realised that they were near the cave of the brotherhood without banners._

Ser Davos was the Onion Knight, he had even taken an onion as his sigil, that meant Matthos was an onion too… Arya shook her head. "Don't give up on your son just yet." She whispered quietly. "I may have an idea of where to find him… I believe that they may be hiding with the Brotherhood Without Banners."

"The what?" Davos spluttered, sitting up.

Arya sighed and explained, she always found it easy to talk to Davos, she told him about what had happened at the Dreadfort and her dream's just before. Davos looked very, very pale by the time she had finished talking, she sighed. "Now you really are scared of me." She whispered.

Davos shook his head. "No, I mean yes, but that's not it… a few months ago princess Shireen found a new rose in Aegon's garden… it was very unusual, yellow, edged with icy blue. The rose is real, princess." He swallowed thickly. "If that part of your dream is real than other parts may be too, could you describe the parts of your dream that involved the Red Woman again? There might be a clue there?"

Arya nodded, they spent the next few hours dissecting the dream as much as possible, they came to the conclusion that the only way to beat the red woman would be to destroy the Ruby necklace, but how? Arya decided that they needed to talk to Maester Lewin, they found him in his tower.

"Princess Arya, Ser Davos, this is an interesting surprise." Lewin greeted, gesturing them into his messy room, there were candle stubs and parchments everywhere. "How can I help?"

Arya gave him a sad look. "You won't like it, we need your help, in regards to blood magic."

"Princess Arya, no, it's too dangerous." Lewin protested.

Arya nodded. "You're right." She agreed, she looked around the room and saw three candles burning, she stubbed them all out.

"Arya!" Lewin exclaimed.

"She can see through the flames." Arya replied. "I chased her through them once, put the fires out, nearly didn't find my way back to myself. We will met again, I need to know how to fight her."

Lewin looked confused but at least he wasn't dismissing what she was saying. "Who?" He asked.

"A red priestess from Asshai, a shadow-binder, has Ser Davos' son, body and mind. She has a necklace with a large Ruby in it which is the source of her power, my dreams suggest she is extremely old. She uses blood magic and human sacrifice by fire, she also uses trickery, glamour, and deception. She poisoned Stannis' mind, she has Matthos, and Davos needs him back. But Matthos will not come until he's seen the truth of her."

Lewin touched his chain nervously, his fingers running over the Valyrian link. "You never make small requests, do you Princess Arya?"

"No." Arya answered.

"Gods, if she can see through the fires… she can see everywhere."

"I know." Arya replied.

"I… I will see what I can find, but it means you will be doing a lot more reading." Lewin answered.

Arya sighed. "I know, Ser Davos, do you know your letters?"

Davos looked embarrassed. "I know the letters themselves, but not how to make words out of them…"

Arya shook her head. "I'm going to need help, if you want your son back you're going to have to learn how to read, Davos."

Davos sighed. "I'm an old dog, princess, I don't have that many new tricks in me."

"Nonsense." Lewin replied. "If you're willing to learn, I can teach you."

~~/~~

Arya was sick of books, sick of nobles, sick of formalities… Robb had asked her not to spar while the guests were here, but he had said nothing about archery. She grabbed the dragon bone bow and a quiver of arrows and made her way to the inner ward, one of the oldest open spaces of the keep, it was used for archery practice. When she got there she found it mostly empty, save for Ygritte, whom was shooting arrow after arrow at three targets. Arya ignored her and took up a space at the other end of the ward.

She practiced in silence, every time she ran out of arrows she announced "Clearing target" before approaching, but other than that she said nothing. The third time she cleared the target she turned around to find Ygritte standing on her mark.

"I ain't ever seen a bow like that." Ygritte muttered.

Arya smirked. "It's hundreds of years old, dragon bone." She replied.

"How'd you get it?" Ygritte asked.

Arya shrugged. "Some Targaryen left it on a wall, I took it down." She replied, sure, the answer was more complexed than that, but she really didn't want to get into all of that now. She offered Ygritte the bow. "Here, have a go."

Ygritte took the bow cautiously, almost as if she were waiting for the trick, she fired one shot, two, three. "Maybe some Targaryen will take it back off of you." She said with a smirk.

"Or the mother of one." Arya replied, meeting her gaze. "Keep it, one day I'll show you the wall I took it off, there's another one there." She turned to leave the ward, leaving a stunned Ygritte behind her.

"You find a lot of interesting walls?" Ygritte called out after her.

Arya smirked and looked over her shoulder. "More than you think, I'll take you for a walk inside some of them one day." She turned and kept walking.

~~/~~

It was nine days after Robb's wedding, about three quarters of the guests had left. The party heading north would be going in a couple of days. It had rained hard for most of the day, but the rain had eased near supper time. Jon had disappeared about forty minutes into supper, Tormund and Mag had left with him, Ygritte had slipped out about ten minutes after that. Arya was picking at her food, and struggling to avoid being pulled into Margaery's current conversation about baby names, when Robb stood up.

"If you will all excuse me, I have a family matter to attend to." Robb announced, he and Wynafryd started to leave, he tapped Arya on the shoulder. "Come on." He said quietly. Arya gave him a confused look and followed him out of the Hall, Grey Wind trailing behind them. Robb paused for a moment and glanced at Theon. "You coming, brother?" He asked. Theon had never put a tankard down so fast, especially one that still had mead in it. Arya and Theon sheared confused looks as Robb led them all towards the godswood.

The moment Arya saw Jon, Ygritte, Tormund, and Mag under the Weirwood she understood. Jon had taken off his sword and Ygritte had removed her bow, Ghost was guarding both weapons. Ygritte was wearing a woollen tunic and long pants of reasonable quality, and she had made some effort with her hair. Everybody watched as Robb walked to stand just in front of the Weirwood, the bronze of his crown shimmered in the moonlight, yet the nine black iron spikes, shaped as longswords, reflected nothing. Robb had hardly parted with the crown since the coronation. Arya's thoughts had been so consumed with other things since her return that she hadn't stopped to think about it, but here, under the Weirwood, Robb truly looked like a King.

He looked around the small group. "You all know why we're here. You may not all be blood, but you are family, you are pack. Tormund, Jon and Arya both speak highly of you, the pack counts you amongst it's number tonight. Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, you are invited as an honoured guest, and witness, you will learn something tonight that must be kept secret, you will note that nobody from south of the neck is here. The pack is putting our trust in you." He said quietly. He paused after each sentence, allowing Tormund to translate for Mag.

Robb then turned his attention to Theon. "Theon, you are, and always will be, my brother. Yet I have kept a secret from you, it is a secret that your sister and father cannot know, a secret Renly cannot know. If you do not wish to learn it, leave now, none of us will think any less of you, and I will still love you as a brother. But if you stay, you have chosen to be more than my brother, you have chosen to be pack."

Silence spread over the group as all eyes turned towards Theon, Arya wondered how many of them knew the truth about Jon's identity? Part of her hoped that Theon would leave, he had betrayed Robb once, but that was a different life, she couldn't keep judging him by possibilities that were no longer possible.

Eventually Theon straightened and nodded. "I choose the pack." He said quietly.

Robb nodded. "Good, then let's get on with it. We are here to join this woman, Ygritte of the Freefolk, and this man, known as Jon Snow, in marriage. Yet, Jon Snow is not this man's name, it is the wolf cloak that keeps him safe. Cousin, will you remove the wolf cloak that protects you for this ceremony?"

Jon nodded. Arya knew the term was meant to be symbolic, yet Jon started to physically undo his cloak, Arya instinctively stepped forward and caught it as it fell, Jon's voice was solemn and serious when he spoke. "I stand here, under the Weirwood, and declare my true name. I am the son of Lyanna Stark,"

"What!" Theon exclaimed.

Arya kicked him. "Shut up." She muttered.

Jon ignored Theon and continued. "The product of the lawful union of her and Rhaegar Targaryen, and my true name is Isaeyan, yet I must live under the wolf cloak of 'Jon Snow'. Ygritte, can you live under that same cloak? Can you keep my secrets, and those of my pack?"

Ygritte smiled. "Jon, or Isaeyan, I do not care. I loved you when you knew nothing, not even your own name, I love you now. I am yours, and you are mine. If you will make room under the wolf cloak for me then I will stay there with you."

Arya swallowed thickly, this didn't feel like a wedding, it felt like a spell, and she suddenly knew that she had a part in it. She lifted the cloak up in her hands and draped it over both of their shoulders. "May the cloak of 'Jon Snow' be your armour and your shield, and may the day come when it can be removed." She whispered, she rested a hand on each of their backs.

Robb stepped forward and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "I bind you as man and woman, husband and wife." He whispered. There was something in his expression, like this wasn't how he had planned things to go, yet he was going with it, just like Arya was. "Would all the pack come in and touch the wolf cloak please?"

It took some jostling to get everybody's hands on it, Mag's hands were huge, yet he knelt down and placed his hand in the middle, reaching under Arya's arms and resting his hand on both of them. Theon rested his hand on Jon, and Tormund rested his hand on Ygritte. Wynafryd moved around to where Robb was standing and ducked under him so that she was in front of him. She placed a hand on Jon's shoulder, and a hand on Ygritte's, just under Robb's hands.

"I bind you all as pack." Robb whispered. "We gather together, against Winter, and all other foes. The day the wolf cloak of Jon Snow is removed we will all stand at Isaeyan's side, for we are pack."

Tormund repeated the words in the old tongue for Mag. The wind seemed to rise around them, Ghost stood alert and Grey Wind howled, the wind rustled louder and a shower of red leaves fell over them. There was a sudden roar of thunder, moments later it started to rain. The rain seemed to bring everybody back to themselves, they pulled back. Suddenly Jon laughed, he threw the cloak over Ygritte's shoulders and pulled her close for a kiss.

Ygritte kissed him deeply then pulled back. "Right, you can all piss of now, we're done." She muttered.

Jon laughed again and scooped her up into his arms. "Not quite." He muttered, and started striding towards the edge of the godswood.

Robb picked up Longclaw and the Dragon bone bow. "Don't forget these." He laughed. Jon stopped and Robb handed the weapons to Ygritte.

They were all drenched, but in good spirits, by the time they returned to the castle proper. Jon seemed intent on carrying Ygritte all the way to his room and they left him to it. Robb pulled Theon in another direction to discuss the truth of Jon's identity, and Tormund and Mag headed towards the tall house. (Tormund had taken residence on one of the human floors.) That left Arya alone with Wynafryd.

"Would you walk me to my chambers?" Wynafryd asked. "I'm still learning my way around."

Arya nodded. "I guess it can take quite a bit to get used to." She muttered.

"Not just that, you're a good fighter, I'm not, I feel safer with you beside me." Wynafryd admitted.

Arya frowned, this was her home, and she had always felt safe in it, but things would have to change now that Robb was a king. "You should have guards." Arya muttered.

Wynafryd chucked. "I'm trying to avoid that, at least for a little while." They walked in silence for a while, then Wynafryd cleared her throat. "Arya, do you trust Margaery?" She asked.

Arya stopped walking. "Do you?" She asked.

Wynafryd pulled a face. "About as much as I like being called Wynni, I hate that name by the way, if you ever shorten my name please call me Fred."

Arya gave Wynafryd an incredulous look. "Fred?"

Wynafryd nodded. "Fred." She said firmly.

Arya smirked, then stuck out her hand. "Hi Fred, I'm Arry, it's short for Harry."

Wynafryd cracked up laughing. "Okay, _Arry_ , what do you think Bargie-Margie is playing at."

Arya snorted, then looked around. "I think we should have this conversation somewhere more private."

~~/~~

Part 50:

Arya studied the courtyard in the pre-dawn light, her sleep had been plagued by dreams, yet she couldn't remember any of them now, she was only left with a lingering sense of tension. She was standing on one of the balcony's that overlooked the inner ward, where Father had often watched her brothers practice their archery, she knew Jon by the sound of his footsteps long before he cleared his throat.

"Thought I might find you here." He muttered. "Couldn't sleep, huh?"

Arya turned slowly and nodded. "You're going North today." She said quietly.

Jon gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll come back, don't worry."

Arya nodded. "Father hasn't come back, yet."

Jon frowned. "Robb hasn't told you?"

"Told me what? Is Father hurt? Is he sick?" Arya asked, suddenly concerned. Jon looked down, then he looked across the courtyard, anywhere but meeting her gaze. "Jon? Tell me."

Jon shook his head, slowly he met Arya's gaze. "Eddard Stark isn't coming back, he never planned to." Jon said quietly. "He took the black before I left, traded my vows for his…"

"But we gave them over three hundred men!" Arya exclaimed.

Jon nodded. "Yes, but Alliser Thorne is a vengeful man, even knowing the truth of me, he wouldn't let me go unless Ned Stark took my place. It backfired on him though, he thought with Jeor Mormont dead they'd elect him as the 998th Lord Commander, they chose Ned Stark instead." He gave her sad smile, like his heart was breaking at being the one to have to tell her. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

Arya flung herself at him and hugged him. "You have nothing to be sorry for." She whispered. They stayed like that for a while, until the sound of movement told them that it was time for Jon to go, Mag's heavy steeps were unmistakable as he made his way to the gate. Arya pulled back. "You better…"

Jon nodded. "Yeah, I better."

~~/~~

Jon frowned as Sandor checked the ropes around Stranger and attached his gear. "You know we have perfectly good horses, right? I'm sure we can find a destrier big enough for you."

"I'll make you a deal, Snow, you don't make comments about my bull, I don't make comments about your direwolf." Sandor answered.

"I don't _ride_ Ghost." Jon replied.

Sandor patted the bull's muzzle. "You hear that, Stranger? He doesn't _ride_ his direwolf… maybe he should?" He scratched the bulls head just behind the ear. "Hmm, what's that? Most of these horses are gonna die? I agree, boy, I agree."

"You're nuts." Asha muttered and mounted her horse, her two new axes shining in the morning light.

Oberyn and Obara shared a look then cracked up laughing, at least the group seemed in good spirits. Mag's laughter was delayed, as he had to wait for Tormund to translate, and therefore startling when it happened.

"Hmm, we're going to have to do something about that language barrier." Brienne muttered.

Tormund slid up beside her. "I could teach you the Old _Tongue_ ," He offered, raising his eyebrows suggestively at the word 'tongue', he lent in closer. "I'm very good with _tongues_ …" He added, he lent in even closer again, ignoring the fact that Brienne's hand had moved to a blade on her hip. "And I have an enormous-"

"TORMUND LEAVE HER ALONE!" Jon shouted in exasperation. "She has no interest in your _vocabulary_ … or anything else."

Tormund took a step back and looked at Jon. "Is vocabulary another word for cock?" He asked, looking genuinely confused.

Jon sighed. "No."

Oberyn laughed. "The lady knight does not seem interested in your advances, I appreciate that most men like a challenge, but she does not seem to consider your interest genuine. Come, ride with me, let Ser Brienne have her space. If you truly want her interest you're going to have to win her respect in battle first."

"Three woman, a giant, a viper, and a madman… and we're being led by a bastard, we're all going to die." Smalljon muttered, apparently he didn't share the rest of the groups good humour.

"That makes you and me a couple a cunts." Sandor replied. "But I'll bet you that pretty new sword, I'll live longer than you do."

Smalljon glared at him. "When you die I'm gonna use your sword to slit that bull's throat." He threatened.

Sandor just laughed and mounted Stranger. "When _you_ die I'm gonna stick your sword up your ass." He nodded to Arya then pulled Stranger in beside Brienne's horse.

It was still early when the party finally set out, a small group had come to see them off, as the group made their way back to the keep Robb invited Tyene and Nymeria Sand to join them for breakfast, the two woman eagerly accepted the offer. Robb, Wynafryd, Ygritte, Theon, Arya, and the two Sand Snakes entered the breakfast area together. They were already talking and eating when Renly and Loras arrived, and Loras looked very displeased at the presence of Tyene and Nym, yet Renly sent him a look that told him to hold his tongue. Margaery, Orlenna, and a group of hand maidens arrived not long after.

It was strange how quickly the feel of the room changed at Olenna's arrival, even the difference in Tyene and Nym was noticeable. Theon soon excused himself and the two Sand Snakes followed. Ygritte went to stand, but Robb touched her arm and shook his head. "You are family, Ygritte, pack." Robb said calmly. "This is your home now, if Lady Olenna takes issue at your presence she is welcome to break her fast elsewhere."

"Oh, you Northerners really are quite rude, aren't you?" Olenna snapped. She pushed to her feet. "Come along, Margaery."

"Grandmother," Margaery sighed. "Sit down."

"I will not tolerate this insult." Olenna insisted. "You are a queen-"

"Yes." Wynafryd interrupted, she remained sitting, but held Olenna with her gaze. " _A_ queen, but not the queen _here_. Ygritte is my cousin by marriage, just as Loras is my brother by marriage. That makes you family by extension, but if you do not enjoy our hospitality you are welcome to return to High Garden, _Lady_ Olenna. Disrespect House Stark again and I will personally arrange your passage and _escort_."

The two woman locked gaze for a few moments then Olenna nodded. "Good, you are more than just a pretty thing." She sat down. "King Robb, it appears your mermaid has some teeth after all, and here I thought you only married her for the tail."

Robb smirked and patted Grey Wind. "I'll take that as an apology." He replied.

"Yes, well…" Olenna made a dismissive gesture. "Speaking of family, it really is quite ridiculous that you insist on keeping Princess Arya trapped here until you have a child…"

"I will not have my sister married off at twelve." Robb replied.

"Oh nonsense, twelve is more than old enough, have you flowered yet, girl?" She asked Arya.

Arya froze, no, she hadn't had her first blood yet, but that wasn't too unusual… Before she could answer however Margaery doubled over in pain. Arya could not later clearly recall the process of events, but at some stage Margaery latched onto her hand on the way to the birthing room and refused to let go, begging her to stay. Arya found herself somehow trapped in the birthing room. She had never seen a child be born before, she had seen horses foal, and hounds have pups, but there was something different to a human birth.

Margaery screamed as another wave of pain ripped through her and grabbed hold of Arya's right hand again, somehow she managed to get her fingernails digging into the palm of Arya's hand. In labour she had found some hidden strength, and it took a lot of effort for Arya to remove the nails. Maester Lewin was saying encouraging things, but Arya wasn't really listening, then he muttered something that caught her attention.

"You're doing good, the baby is starting to crown… oh, that's interesting."

"What's interesting?" Arya asked, suddenly alert.

"What, what's wrong?" Margaery hissed between waves of pain. "Grandmother, what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong dear, keep pushing." Olenna replied patting her arm lightly. "I do hope that's not your sword hand she has, Arya."

"It's not, what's interesting." Arya replied.

"Oh, nothing, nothing, I just expected the baby's hair to be darker." Maester Lewin replied. "Keep pushing, Queen Magarey, the hard part is almost over."

"I- I can't." Margaery replied.

Arya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you weak, Magarey? Maester Lewin said push, you can get me back for this in a few years, but right now you need to push."

"I- I can't." Margaery insisted.

Arya pulled back her hand and slapped Margaery across the face. "Look, I don't know why you want me here, and I don't know what you did to Gendry to make him so angry with you, but you asked me to stay, so I stayed. Now push, or I'll hit you again." Arya moved to lift her hand once more for emphasis.

"How dare you!?" Olenna began to roar.

Margery ignored her grandmothers outburst, she looked like she was about to burst into tears, but as she locked her gaze with Arya's the determination in her eyes was clear. She took a shuddering breath. "I- I'll push." She whispered.

Arya nodded and offered her hand back. "If you could avoid breaking my hand that would be nice too."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Margaery's mouth. "I'm so going to be there for the birth of your first child." She whispered.

"I'm so going to break your hand if you are." Arya replied.

"Your graces, if we could concentrate on the matter at hand, Queen Margaery, when the next contraction hits I need you to push and keep pushing." Maester Lewin advised. "I'll deal with Princess Arya's hand later."

Margaery nodded, the next contraction hit and she started to push, she was exhausted, sweat running down her face, yet the baby seemed stubborn, it was still another twenty minutes before the baby was born, a baby with very pale hair...

~~/~~


	11. Chapters 51 - 55

Part 51:

Margaery wasn't just surprised by the appearance of the baby, she seemed devastated. Margaery rejected the child at first, and it took much persuading to get her to even feed it. The more Margaery rejected the child the more protective of it Arya became, she would not even let the babe out of her sight while it was getting cleaned up, that was how it ended up being Arya that presented the baby to Renly. Arya held the child close and kept it's head covered as she and Maester Lewin made their way to the room where Renly, Loras, and Robb were waiting.

Robb gave Arya a gentle smile as she entered the room, he did not seem as surprised as Arya was that the baby was in her arms. Renly's eyes went straight to the bundle, yet he held himself back and asked after Margaery's welfare first. Maester Lewin assured him that Margaery was physically well, but advised that she seemed to be suffering from post-birth distress, a known affliction that could affect the minds of new mothers, and should not be allowed alone with the baby for any time until her condition improved.

" _Baby_ ," Renly muttered. "How long are you planning to keep me in suspense? Boy or girl?"

Arya felt her arms tighten defensively around the child. "Girl." She whispered.

A look of disappointment passed over Renly's face like a shadow, but he quickly chased it away, forcing a smile in it's place. "And are you going to show her to me, Princess Arya, or are you going to keep holding her?"

Arya nodded. "You should sit." She advised, Renly obliged and she carefully placed the little girl in his arms. She stayed close, she knew she was hovering but she didn't care, if he reacted badly… Renly held the baby girl gently, he touched her face, but the eyes remained closed.

"It can take over a day for them to open their eyes, sometimes only a few hours." Maester Lewin advised. "And… eye and hair colour can adjust over the first few weeks." Lewin sounded as concerned as Arya felt.

Renly carefully pushed the cloth aside, revealing hair so pale as to be called silver-gold, and the three men gasped. "How?" He whispered.

"Your grandmother was a Targaryen." Maester Lewin replied calmly. "Clearly there is some forgotten Valyrian blood in House Tyrell as well."

"There are no Targaryen bastards in my bloodline!" Loras spat.

"No, I'm sure there aren't." Maester Lewin agreed calmly. "But can you trace every one of your bloodlines back over four hundred years?"

Loras looked pale. "No." He whispered.

"So, there could be some Valyrian blood in there somewhere. Houses Baratheon, Velaryon, Celtigar, and Martell are all _known_ to have Valyrian blood in their history, and that is before we even start to consider the suspected bloodlines, or look across the narrow sea. Yes, it is rare for such traits to surface, but if both parents have them, such as with Elia's son, Aegon… well, it is possible."

Renly's hand shook, yet he stroked the girl's hair gently. "I, uh… I wasn't prepared for this." He muttered. "I – I guess naming her Lyanna is out of the question now?"

"Too many people live under the shadow of that name." Robb replied, he seemed calm. "I would have advised you against the name regardless."

Renly nodded, he looked up at Arya and pressed the girl back into her arms. "What would you name her?"

Arya swallowed thickly, she had created a fuss the last time she had chosen a name. _Visenya_ flashed across her mind, but she quickly dismissed it, even she understood that to name the girl that would be political suicide. She studied the baby's features and let her mind wander. People always said a baby looked more like one parent or the other, yet people saw what they expected to see, this was just a baby, small and fragile, and in need of protection. She sat down beside Renly, he needed to accept this child for it to be safe.

"That depends, what do you want for her?"

"I want her to be a black-haired boy!" Renly exclaimed, he looked on the verge of tears.

"Well she isn't, but that doesn't mean she won't be strong." Arya snapped. "Now, this is your daughter, right now she is your heir, she might be a queen one day, what do you want for her?"

Maester Lewin cleared his throat. "Actually that's not quite true, after the Dance of the Dragons the laws for royal inheritance were changed, Prince Gendry remains the heir until such time as King Renly sires a son."

Loras suddenly punched the stone wall, causing Arya to flinch, the baby girl started to cry. Arya shushed the baby and bounced her gently until she stopped crying. Suddenly the girl opened her eyes and looked up at Arya… Gods, she was beautiful! Arya looked down at those familiar icy blue eyes and stroked the baby's face.

"Those eyes are Baratheon," She whispered with reverence. "Well, Durrandon really, Orys Baratheon had black eyes… those are Storm King eyes." She was talking to herself more than anybody else, letting her thoughts wander as she searched for answers, suddenly the stories of Alyssa Velaryon (daughter of Aethan Velaryon and some Targaryen woman whose first name history had long forgotten) came to mind.

Alyssa likely had as strong a claim on the Iron throne as any, yet she hadn't sat on it, after her husband, King Aenys I, had died her first son, Aegon II, should have been King. But Visenya's son, Maegor, had taken the throne by force. Alyssa had fled with her three younger children, but not before stealing Dark Sister. Some of her children had died terrible deaths, but the sword, and Rogar Baratheon, had helped her get one of her sons, Jaehaerys, on the throne. Officially she had been his regent, but history suggested that Rogar Baratheon had more control. Jaehaerys had been a brilliant King, and his half-brother, Boremund Baratheon was the lineage that all known Baratheon's were sired from.

"You really want me to name her?" She asked Renly carefully.

"I'm… interested in your thoughts." Renly replied. "Your mind really is an enigma to me."

Arya nodded. "How well do you know your history, _Baratheon_ history?" She asked quietly. "Would you agree that Alyssa Velaryon was both the mother of House Targaryen, and House Baratheon, as we know them?"

Renly nodded slowly. "That statement has merit."

Arya nodded. "Then I'd like to introduce you to Alyssa Baratheon, first of her name, you should know that I'm going to put a training sword in her hand as soon as she can hold one." She passed the baby girl back to Renly.

Renly took the baby gently and looked down at her eyes. "Yes," He whispered. "They are Baratheon eyes, hello Alyssa." He looked up at Arya, there was nothing but honest vulnerability in his expression, a rare occurrence. "People are going to struggle to accept her, do I have your permission to make it known that you choose the name?"

Arya nodded. "Yes, I'm going to be part of her life, she's going to need somebody to teach her about strong women, and that she is not less for being born a girl."

Renly nodded. "My outburst earlier… was not appropriate…"

Arya frowned. "No, it wasn't, but it was honest."

He gave her a sad look. "You don't understand the things I've done to get this child." He glanced at Loras then returned his gaze to Arya. "I'm sure one day you will, and you will be very, very angry at me… I… I regret some of the choices I've made, I did not see the harm they would cause, I hope one day you can forgive me."

Arya looked at him confused, it was as if he was making some sort of confession, but she did not understand.

"It's not _her_ forgiveness you need to ask though, is it?" Robb said somewhat coldly.

Renly cocked his head sideways and looked up at Robb. "You know?"

Robb nodded. "I know, and I promise you that it will never happen again, be a good King and it will not be spoken of, but checks and measures have been put in place."

Loras spun on Robb. "Is that a threat?!"

Suddenly the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees, Maester Lewin sent Arya a questioning look but she subtlety shook her head, it wasn't her. They both shifted their gaze to Robb, but he ignored them, his attention still fixed on Loras.

"No, Ser Loras, it's a promise, do you think that House Stark went into it's union with House Tyrell blindly?" Robb's eyes narrowed. "There are reasons that I insisted on a bedding ceremony for Sansa."

"If you have an accusation to make…" Loras' hand moved towards the hilt of his sword.

The chill of the room increased and Robb's eyes remained hard and unreadable. "I do not care whom you, uh… _cross swords_ with, as long as you do your duty. But there are _duties_ , which only a King should preform, _duties_ that Renly has burdened Gendry with in the past. I take _issue_ at that, Gendry will not be burdened with such duties ever again."

"And if he is?" Loras challenged.

"Loras, _enough_!" Renly snapped, he turned his attention back to Robb. "You have my word, Gendry will not be concerned with such matters again."

Robb nodded. "Make sure Margaery understands that, Arya come." He turned and left the room.

Arya followed after him, Maester Lewin not far behind her. " _What_ was that?" She hissed once they were far enough from the door.

"A favour for a friend." Robb replied. "Gendry will explain it to you one day. It is something that has caused him a lot of distress, when he does tell you… understand that he was given no choice."

Robb looked sad, but that still wasn't an answer. "No choice in _what?!_ " She demanded.

Robb just shook his head. "Do you really wish me to break Gendry's confidence? Even for you?"

"I -" Arya shook her head. "No, I guess not."

Robb nodded. "Good. How is your transcribing going?"

"It's… getting there." Arya replied, Robb gave her a pointed look. "In fact, I should get back to it." She muttered. Robb nodded and Arya turned and made her way towards the Library tower.

~~/~~

Three days later Renly and Loras, along with three quarters of their guard, left for King's Landing. Margaery, Olenna, her guard, and baby Alyssa stayed. Margaery still had to be persuaded to feed Alyssa and a wet nurse was quickly found to supplement the feedings. Margaery seemed unwilling even to hold the child, and her grandmother telling her to "Snap out of it" didn't help either, luckily Old Nan was there to intervene.

Olenna had never met anybody quite like Old Nan, as to which woman was older, whom could say? Yet Old Nan was bold enough that she had put generations of Stark's in their place, she was taking none of Olenna's nonsense. Arya found herself spending more and more time in the nursery, and she was often found around the keep with Alyssa in her arms.

"You're getting quite attached to that little girl, Princess Arya." Davos observed one day, as they were reading over books about Asshai, Alyssa was asleep and safely tucked in Arya's arm.

Arya shrugged and chewed her lip. "Somebody has to love her." She said quietly.

Davos nodded in understanding. "I feel the same about Princess Shireen." He said quietly. "I worry that I have stayed away too long, yet we need these weapons tested. Once your brother, Jon, and his group come back with the information we need I shall return to Dragonstone."

Arya nodded. "Of course."

Davos looked as if he was going to say something then changed his mind, he frowned, then went to speak again. "Shireen misses you." He said quietly, not meeting her eyes. "Gendry too, and as you say… Alyssa needs you. When I return Queen Margaery will likely choose to return with me… Perhaps you could convince King Robb that you should come as well?"

"There must always be a Stark at Winterfell." Arya said uncertainly.

"Yes well, maybe that should be King Robb's burden?" He replied. "Just… think on it. It will be a couple of months before a decision needs to be made."

Arya nodded. "How is Gendry?"

"I… it's not really my place to say, Princess, but he would be better if you were there. You… you make him believe in himself… he stands taller when you are around… Besides, you will have to leave Winterfell if you are going to help me get my son back."

"I'll talk to Robb," Arya agreed quietly. "But not yet, after Jon is back."

Davos nodded. "Thank you, Princess." He said softly.

Arya pulled a face. "Davos, you do know that you don't have to call me 'Princess', right."

Davos smiled. "And did it ever occur to you that I might enjoy it, _Princess_? I was born a crabber's son, I never dared dream I might hold the confidence of princes and princesses." As if on que Alyssa woke up crying. "Here, let me." Davos said reaching for her, Arya let him take the baby out of her arms and watched as he fussed over her. Davos quickly discovered that Alyssa needed a change, and likely a feed, and took her in search of the wet nurse.

~~/~~

Part 52:

The days turned to weeks, and Arya again settled into a routine of sorts. She spent her days between worrying about Jon, worrying about Sansa, worrying about Gendry, and worrying about baby Alyssa. She trained, she read, she wrote, she attended court… but always the constant worry in the back of her head, she had now added worrying about Davos to the list… she worried about her father and Robb too, but that worry felt less urgent.

Some days Margaery seemed to improve, and some days she didn't, Arya caught her just before she smothered Alyssa once. They stopped trying to get her to breastfeed after that. The wet nurse's name was Saia, she was a lovely girl, nobody special. She was kind, and gentle, and loved to knit. Her own child had been a stillborn, and she spoke nothing of the father. She was fifteen years old, with no family to speak of, and very much alone in the world.

It was early one morning, Arya and Saia were in the nursery, Saia had finished breastfeeding and Arya was holding Alyssa. She was sitting in one of the old rocking chairs, Old Nan had once said that the chairs had been old even when she had come to Winterfell, Alyssa was almost asleep. As the first traces of early dawn crept through the window Olenna entered the nursery.

"Ah, beat me to it." The old woman murmured as she saw Alyssa in Arya's arms, she turned her attention to Saia. "Leave us." Saia nodded and curtseyed clumsily before quickly exiting the room, Olenna sighed and took the chair she had vacated, another one of the old rockers. "Interesting girl, that, did you know her stillborn was Theon's?"

Arya shook her head. "I – uh – it wouldn't surprise me, he'll probably father as many children as Aegon VI before he's done."

"Or Robert Baratheon." Olenna muttered, she looked Arya up and down. "You know, for one that tries to put up an appearance of having little interest in motherhood you're doing a surprisingly good job of it."

Arya looked down at the bundle in her arms. "Not mine though, is she? How is Margaery?"

Olenna sighed. "Not good, serves her right really, she was so confident that she was going to have a black haired, blue eyed, boy… she should have realised that things are seldom so easy… and I had so much faith in her."

Arya frowned. "Maester Lewin said-"

"Yes, yes, I know what Maester Lewin said, but this is more than simple post birth depression, you see my grandchildren did a terribly stupid thing to get that child, they needed their actions to result in an heir, and it backfired. I suppose Gendry will be quite pleased."

"Gendry doesn't want the Iron Throne." Arya muttered.

Olenna studied her carefully. "You seem so sure of that, well, I suppose that is some good news, and you? Do you want to be a queen?"

"No." Arya replied without hesitation.

Olenna smiled. "Hmm, well you will make quite a pair then. I assumed you knew the truth, but it seems I was wrong, I came here to confront you about what you're going to do about it."

"What truth?" Arya asked.

Olenna sighed. "The price of Dragonstone." She answered. "Come now, show me how clever you are, work out what my idiotic grandchildren did."

Arya frowned, the price of Dragonstone? She stroked Alyssa's face and tried to piece things together.

~~/~~

 _Gendry jumped. "You're awake," He whispered. "Did I wake you? I didn't mean to wake you." The smell of wine was strong on his breath and he sounded sad._

 _"You're drunk." Arya muttered._

 _"Very drunk." Gendry agreed, his brow furrowed. "Are you disappointed in me?" The tone of his voice suggested that he expected her to be disappointed in him._

 _Arya pulled up the seat beside him. "Gendry, what's wrong?"_

 _"You should be disappointed in me." He whispered quietly, he went to shake his head then stopped. "It's too much," He muttered. "It's all just too much. I can't play these high-born games." He rubbed his temples. "Remind me why Dragonstone is important."_

 _The question was almost a plea for reassurance and the desperateness in Gendry's voice shocked Arya, she decided to offer the simplest version of the answer. "Strategically it's the best place to launch an attack on Kings Landing, or prevent one." She replied._

 _"No, no, not to them, to you. Remind me why Dragonstone is important to you." Gendry pleaded._

 _"Dragon glass, we need Dragon glass to fight the Night King." Arya answered. She had never seen Gendry like this, gods! What had happened?! What did he mean by 'high-born games'?_

 _"I told them that… their fault if they don't listen, their fault if they all die, can we run away now?" Arya was surprised, she'd never seen Gendry like this, he seemed… broken._

 _"Gendry, tell me what happened." She begged._

 _"I can't." Gendry whispered. "Even if I wanted to, I can't, I gave my word."_

 _He was really starting to scare her now. "Gendry, did somebody hurt you?"_

 _Gendry went to shake his head again and groaned. "No… I… the Wall will get their Dragon glass. But to get it I had to agree to do something that I didn't want to do, something that I'm not proud of."_

 _"And that's why you're drunk?" She asked. Gendry nodded. A terrible thought crossed her mind. "Who do you have to marry?"_

 _"Not marry… bed." He replied softly._

~~/~~

 _Renly gave Arya a sad look. "You don't understand the things I've done to get this child." He glanced at Loras then returned his gaze to Arya. "I'm sure one day you will, and you will be very, very angry at me… I… I regret some of the choices I've made, I did not see the harm they would cause, I hope one day you can forgive me."_

~~/~~

 _"…I know things may be overwhelming for Gendry right now, but in time he will come to see that all that is being asked of him is for the good of the House. I'm sure you understand the importance of putting your house first, you need to take a step back and let Gendry find his place in House Baratheon." Margery told Arya._

 _The sound of a throat clearing caused both of them to turn. Gendry was standing looking at them both. "Are you jealous, your grace?" He asked quietly. "Does my connection with Arya threaten you in some way?"_

 _Margaery crossed the few steps between them and rested her hand lightly on his arm. "Sweet Gendry, I am just concerned for you."_

 _Gendry became completely still the moment she touched his arm, he looked her straight in the eye until her hand finally dropped to her side and she took a step backwards._

~~/~~

 _Suddenly the girl opened her eyes and looked up at Arya… Gods, she was beautiful! Arya looked down at those familiar icy blue eyes and stroked the baby's face._

~~/~~

 _Robb's eyes remained hard and unreadable. "I do not care whom you, uh…_ cross swords _with, as long as you do your duty. But there are duties, which only a King should preform, duties that Renly has burdened Gendry with in the past. I take issue at that, Gendry will not be burdened with such duties ever again."_

~~/~~

Arya swallowed thickly and looked up at Olenna as the pieces slowly began to fall into place. "Renly and Margaery didn't have a bedding ceremony, did they?" She asked cautiously.

"No, had I been there… no, they didn't." Olenna sighed. "Renly… prefers the company of men, that's why I worked so hard to have Loras become his squire, to seduce him. We originally planned to bring Margaery to court to seduce Robert into putting Cersei aside, but we acted a little too slowly on that… I guess it would have been better for your family if we had acted quicker."

"Why tell me this?" Arya asked, what was Olenna playing at?

"Dear girl, because I believe it's time we had an honest conversation and put our cards on the table. I will do terrible things to protect those I love, as I believe will you. The coming winter is not the only looming threat, so let me lay out how things are for you. Sleeping with the queen, when you are not the King, is legally treason, and you have nobody to prove that Renly forced Gendry into it. Alyssa is Gendry's, but if you care for her, if you care for Gendry, that will remain a secret. Loras and Renly are lovers, yet even Loras cannot seem to convince Renly to do his duty… perhaps you can?"

"I…" Arya's head was spinning.

"Let me speak, girl, Alyssa's parentage is the least of your problems right now. King Robert put the Crown into serious debt, and the Iron Bank is calling in the loans. House Tyrell does not have the funds to cover it, if we cannot find an answer the Iron Bank will invest in Daenerys and her dragons to get their money back. If that happens we may not _live_ to see winter. Gendry's diamonds could save us, but as you can guess, he is very angry and hurt right now. Renly was quite shocked to discover that Gendry does not share his father's cavalier attitude towards sex, be angry with Renly, but understand that all he saw was a younger version of Robert, the boy was even holding a war hammer for mercy's sake. Robert would have had no problem accommodating Renly's request."

"So… what do you want?" Arya asked.

"I want to protect my family, including that baby in your arms, that means protecting the Realm. You will convince your brother to allow you to return south with us, you will take up your role on the small council, and be a large part in Alyssa's life, from what I've seen she needs you. We will make Margaery's depression public, which will allow you to take Alyssa to Dragonstone as and when you choose. In return, you will convince Gendry to supply diamonds to help with the Iron Bank debt, you will do your best to convince Renly to do his duty, and you will marry Gendry sooner rather than later."

"I have some conditions." Arya replied, what conditions did she have? Shit, she better think of something fast, this would be her only chance to negotiate. "House Tyrell will find homes for eight hundred Freefolk, and will send regular shipments of grain and other food to the Wall, to build up their stocks for winter. And Jon will come south with me, to oversee the mining of dragon glass for Gendry."

"Four hundred Wildlings, and we get at least one giant." Olenna counted.

Arya shook her head. "I cannot make any promises on the giant, but I will talk to Mag about it for you."

Olenna nodded. "One more condition then, you will stick to your word that you will put a training sword into Alyssa's hand as soon as she can hold one."

Arya hadn't expected that, she nodded. "Of course."

"Good, good." Olenna replied. "I believe we are going to get along very well, Arya Stark. Now… may I hold my great granddaughter?"

Arya nodded, she walked over to Orlenna and placed Alyssa carefully in her arms, then turned and left the room. She made her way to the godswood, oblivious of those around her, she got all the way to the Weirwood before she dissolved into tears.

~~/~~

Arya knew that she was going too hard on the poor guard that she had convinced to train with her, but she didn't care, she needed to hit something… break something, it took all of her restraint to pull the deadly blows. She heard Robb approaching but ignored him.

"You weren't at breakfast." Robb observed.

"Not hungry." Arya muttered.

"You're always hungry." Robb replied. "And you're going too hard on that guard, stop."

Arya obeyed and lowered her sword. "Yes, your grace." She replied coldly.

Robb gave her a questioning look and dismissed the guard. "So, it's me you're angry at?"

Arya shrugged. "Partly."

Robb nodded and drew his sword. "Come on then, we haven't sparred since Dragonstone, show me what Rhosyn Melyn can do."

They sparred for a while, Arya didn't hold back, but neither did Robb, he'd improved since the last time they fought. "Why did you let Sansa marry Loras?" She demanded as she swiped out his feet and sent him tumbling in the dirt.

Robb rolled as he fell and regained his feet quickly. "Because he won't rape her, and because she gets that pretty little life she always wanted. Do you have any idea how many men rape their wives? _Marriage right._ " He spat the last two words. "It's a load of horse-shit, father's greatest fear for you and Sansa was that you would end up with husbands that would rape you, especially you. Most men would try and break you down."

Arya froze, she hadn't looked at it that way, from that perspective Loras was the perfect match for Sansa. She put her sword away. "Godswood." She muttered.

Robb nodded and followed her, they sat under the Weirwood and talked, she told him about her conversation with Olenna and he told her about how badly Gendry was really doing. Gendry had been forced to come to King's Landing for Loras and Sansa's wedding, but he had hidden away as much as he could, and the many conversations about Margaery's pregnancy had almost broken him. He'd stuck to water, refusing even one sip of wine at the marriage feast, and fled back to Dragonstone as fast as he could. The reason that it had taken so long for Robb to return was because he had gone to Dragonstone after Gendry.

Robb told her how big Opal and Dragonsteel were getting, and how worried Shireen and Davos really were about Gendry. He agreed that she needed to get there soon, and that taking Jon with her was a good idea. He praised her for getting a pledge of supplies for the Wall and homes for four hundred Freefolk, he told her that Gendry had pledged to take a hundred. He told her that the caravan of the Yellow Lady had found their way there, and Gendry had given them all homes. He told her that Mary had given birth to a girl, and named her Arya. That he had spent time talking with Ros, and offered to make her a Stark, but she had refused it.

He told her that Lucerys was getting quite confidant with his sword, and Cade and Aleena were becoming quite capable archers… He talked about the horses, and his suspicions that Robar had some sort of skin-changer abilities. About his 'feeling' that Elenei had some sort of greenseer abilities…

He talked about Wynafryd, and why he had chosen to marry her, about the names he wanted to give his children. He talked about his hopes and fears for Arya, and his belief that she and Gendry could have a strong, loving marriage, if she would allow it. It was the longest, and most private, conversation that they had had since his return… perhaps the most honest conversation that they had ever had.

Arya sighed and lent back against the tree. "What I don't understand is why Olenna would choose to be so honest with me?" She muttered.

Robb looked away, his gaze settling on the black pool. "Margaery tried to kill herself two days ago." He whispered. "Wynafryd stopped her."

"What?!" Arya exclaimed.

Robb nodded. "I'd say it made Olenna rethink her approach to certain matters. The only way for her to help Margaery get past her guilt is to help Gendry, that means Olenna needs you."

"You can't seriously be asking me to forgive her!" Arya exclaimed.

Robb gave a bitter smile. "No, but if you saw the state she's in you might pity her. You don't need to punish her for her choices, she's doing that to herself."

~~/~~

Part 53:

Arya found herself standing on a giant Cyvasse board, except the pieces were wrong, and instead of one opponent she had many. Arya's pieces were dragon glass, ringed with Dragonsteel (the new metal that Gendry had created), she had three dragons instead of one, each on a dragon glass base with a ring of Dragonsteel around the middle of it. One was Opal, one was Dragonsteel, and the other one was frost-blue and white, with a blue rose clutched in one of it's claws and a sword in the other… the blue and white dragon held a jade marble in it's mouth…

One of her opponents was Alabaster, that opponent also had three dragons instead of one, again the dragons were coloured, it looked as if the bases could be removed and changed. One dragon was black, and it was larger than the others, one was bronze and green, the last was green. The last two dragons had chains around their necks and their head's bowed, but the black ones wings were spread wide and it looked as if it was roaring.

There was another opponent, with pieces white as ivory, but they looked to be carved of ice, and she couldn't see the pieces properly.

There were other pieces milling around the board, there was a cluster of elephants, but the elephants were golden, with skulls on their backs, and did not seem to belong to any of the players, there were discarded Alabaster bases near them, as if the Alabaster player had tried to claim the elephants but failed.

There was a group of rabble on the field, most of them without bases, but a couple had her bases, she picked up one of the rabble pieces and realised that it looked like Tormund. There were a cluster of light and heavy horsemen in another part of the field, they were also golden, but they looked tarnished. A direwolf carved of Weirwood stood amongst them… direwolf was not a Cyvasse piece… but then neither was Weirwood, yet both she and the player whose pieces looked like ice had Weirwoods on the board.

Arya heard a baby crying and suddenly noticed Alyssa lying in the middle of the board…

Arya woke up with a start, Alyssa was crying! Her room was too far away from the nursery to hear a baby cry, yet she _knew_ … Alyssa was crying! She pushed the furs aside and bounded to her feet, ignoring the cold floor as she ran to the door. She didn't care for her slippers or her robe, she paused only for Rhosyn Melyn. She ran down the corridors, not caring that she was only in a long shirt, and ignored the guards calling out to her as she passed. Alyssa was crying!

Three guards were following her now, she rounded a corner and she could hear a woman screaming and Alyssa crying. Two of the guards suddenly put on a burst of speed, getting ahead of her, damn her short legs! As she got to the door she heard Margaery yelling.

"I hate you! I hate you!" Margaery screamed. "Let me go! Let me go! I'm going to kill her, she has to die!"

Arya took in the room as she entered it. She noticed Margaery and the guard's first, one guard was holding onto each arm, trying to pull her away from Alyssa's cradle. Margaery looked a mess, her hair didn't look as if it had been combed in days and her nightdress was dirty, there were splashes of blood on it too. Arya notice Saia next, she was cowered in a corner, blood dripped down her face from three large gashes that looked like fingernail marks. She was clutching at her throat, which looked swollen and sore. It looked as if Margaery had tried to strangle her. And over it all the sound of Alyssa's desperate cries…

Margaery continued to scream and struggle, but Arya ignored her. Arya stepped around Margaery and the guards and picked up Alyssa, hushing and rocking her. "Shh, shh, I've got you. Shh, it's okay, I've got you." Alyssa continued to cry, but it sounded less distraught now.

"The gods are punishing me!" Margaery cried. "They're punishing me for what I did, that's why they gave me _her_ instead of my black haired boy!"

Arya looked at Margaery, there were dark circles under the woman's eyes, as if she hadn't slept in days. Her skin was pallid and blotchy, it looked like she had been crying a lot. Arya tried to feel something for the woman, pity, anger, hatred… but she felt nothing.

She turned her back on Margaery and walked over to Saia. "Saia, can you stand?" Saia nodded and started to move to her feet, Arya offered her a hand. "Come, we'll get Maester Lewin to look at your injuries shortly." She turned and started to leave the room.

"What do we do with her?" The third guard asked.

Arya paused, she turned back to Margaery and studied her again, desperately trying to feel _something_. Robb was right, Margaery was punishing herself, yet Arya could find no pity. She slowly shifted her attention back to the guard. "I don't care." She finally answered. "Send somebody to wake Robb, let him deal with it. And send somebody to wake Maester Lewin, send him to my chambers." She turned her back on Margaery. "Saia, come."

"Arya, please!" Margaery cried out. But Arya ignored her and walked away.

~~/~~

Saia's knitting needles clacked together with a rhythm that Arya had never been able to find, she only paused when she came to the end of a row. It reminded Arya of Old Nan, absently Arya wondered if her grandchildren would call _Saia_ 'Old Nan'? Grandchildren, now that was a thought. It was three days since Margaery had tried to kill Alyssa and attacked Saia.

Margaery had been confined to quarters, with heavy guard, while arrangements were made to ship her back south. They were taking her to Highgarden to 'recover', whatever that meant. Arya had also had to submit to heavy guard, just in case Margaery managed to convince one of her guards to attack Alyssa. A cradle and a rocking chair had been moved to Arya's room. Rickon's room had been made up for Saia so that she could be kept close, Robb's decision. It was difficult to walk into Rickon's room and realise that he was dead, that he was never coming back. Her poor baby brother, why hadn't she been able to save him?

As Arya spent more time around Winterfell she contemplated more of her failures. Vayon Poole's surviving older daughters, the ones that hadn't come south, were a reminder of all the Stark men she hadn't been able to save. Lives she hadn't even tried to save. Could she have done more? She began to question all of her choices.

What if she had acted differently when she had first found herself by the bank of the Trident, sparing with Mycah again? She had been so focused on saving Mycah, but what if she had killed Joffrey instead? Or, what if she had tried to get close to King Robert? What if she had tried to tell _him_ the truth instead? Could she have convinced him? Could she have played on the fact that she reminded her father of Lyanna and therefore might be able to remind him of Lyanna too?

What if she had managed to get King Robert to like her on the trip south and convinced him to detour to the street of steel when they first entered King's Landing? What if she had taken him straight to Gendry and used that to prove that she knew things she shouldn't? Gendry would have told him of Jon Arryn's visits…

Had she chosen the wrong time to come back to? Should she have gone back to being younger? Could she have changed more, fixed more? Could she have found a way to save Jon Arryn? She hadn't thought of it, hadn't thought of any of it. Had she been selfish? How many lives had she risked to save Gendry? Had she saved him, or caused more harm? Gods! Gendry, how much pain must he be in right now? Arya remembered the night that she had laid there and rubbed his back while he sobbed silently. She would have killed Margery then and there if she had known. If she had killed Margaery she would have failed. Westeros would still be at war, weakening itself and destroying it's food reserves. Gendry had saved so many lives by not telling her.

She decided that she needed to write to him, but she didn't know what to say. She spent over an hour with parchment and ink before coming up with what she hoped were the right words. The end result was short enough to be sent via raven. There was so much that she wanted to say, but it needed to be said in person. In the end the raven was so simple that she hesitated to send it.

 _Dear Gendry,_

 _I am not disappointed in you. Be well, I will return to Dragonstone when I can. Give Shireen a hug for me. I can't wait to introduce Alyssa to her._

 _Arya._

Arya looked at the message and re-read it a dozen times before finally resolving that it was the best she could come up with. She had never understood ravenry, never understood how you get the bird to fly to the right place, but she trusted Maester Lewin to send the message all the same. She needed to go south, needed to see for herself how bad things were, but she knew she wouldn't be able to help Gendry alone. She needed Jon, needed somebody who could relate to Gendry's feelings over being raised as a bastard. Arya sighed and returned to her books, she still didn't know how to fight Melisandre, maybe she was looking in the wrong place? She suddenly realised that there was something more she needed to add to the raven. She picked up the quill and tried to squeeze the new message in. She looked at the note and sighed, it looked messy now, she tore it up and wrote it out again.

 _Dear Gendry,_

 _I am not disappointed in you. Be well, I will return to Dragonstone when I can. Give Shireen a hug for me. I can't wait to introduce Alyssa to her. Tell Maester Pylos I need everything he can find on or by Visenya Targaryen, everything on Asshai, and everything on blood magic or R'hllor. I'm going to bring somebody to help sort through Rhaegar's study with me, somebody we've talked about. We haven't seen the last of Melasandrie yet, next time I'm going to be ready for her._

 _Arya._

~~/~~

Part 54:

 _Earth, fur, peat… the sound of a creek in the distance… the trees in the Riverlands were not as old as the Wolf Wood, all the deep forests were gone. Nymeria passed by the stump of a once-huge Weirwood, three narrow trunks grew out of the stump of the once great tree, their red leaves littering the forest floor. A young pup climbed up onto the stump and climbed between the narrow tree trunks. Yes, this was a good place, they would make the den here. Five wolves and three hounds worked together to dig the den, but Nymeria would not stay here, there was work to do. She split the pack in half, leaving behind enough strong hounds and wolves to protect the weaker ones, she led the rest closer to their destination._

 _Arya recognised where they were going as they drew closer to the Hollow Hill, but how did Nymeria know? Yet the moment she thought the question she had her answer, she knew, so Nymeria knew. Nymeria did not understand how she knew, but the piece of Arya that was in Nymeria had led the pack here. The pack were watching, waiting, when Arya knew how to fight Melisandre they would be ready to help._

 _Arya watched through Nymeria's eyes as somebody moved around on watch, he had a bow on his back and Arya recognised him. "Anguy," She thought. "Be careful that one, he'll shoot pointy sticks through the pack, he's very fast, and he never misses." With a mental thought Nymeria caused the pack to move further back. "Don't attack, not yet, I'm not ready." Arya thought. Nymeria seemed to agree and the surrounding forest quickly began to fade._

Arya pulled the furs closer around her as she came back to herself, more for the comfort than because of the chill, but there was a chill in the room. Suddenly Arya was awake, she checked Alyssa in her crib and realised that the baby was cold. Arya pulled the furs around Alyssa then added a log to the fire. As the fire grew Arya sat in the rocking chair and watched it.

"Are you watching me?" She asked the flames. "Hm, of course you are, but I have eyes too. We will meet again, Melisandre."

~~/~~

With the Tyrell's and the Baratheon Royal Guard gone Arya had her freedom restored. She had almost forgotten that Nymeria and Tyene Sand were still at Winterfell until she saw them training with Ygritte.

"Princess Arya! Can I have one of these bows?" Nymeria called out as Arya crossed the inner ward. She waved the dragon bone bow in the air, Ygritte had been letting her train with it.

Arya laughed. "If we find some more I'll think about it." She replied. She realised that the Sand sisters likely hadn't seen Alyssa. She carefully revealed the babe to them but refused to let either woman hold her.

"You're very protective of her, aren't you?" Nymeria observed.

Arya nodded. "Yes, well, I've had to stop her own mother from killing her a couple of times."

"The sickness Queen Margaery has, it is a terrible thing, it destroys families, but she is simply sick." Tyene muttered. "Not everybody wants to hurt Princess Alyssa, you know, I think she is very beautiful." Tyene reassured. "Why don't you let me hold her for a while, you look like you want to train."

Arya bit her lip nervously. "I do want to train, but I promised to protect her." She muttered nervously. "I don't know you, how can I know you won't hurt her?"

Ygritte seemed to be watching the exchange with interest. "Do you trust me not to hurt her?" She asked quietly.

Arya took a deep breath. "Jon trusts you, that's all I need to know." Ygritte nodded and reached for Alyssa, Arya reluctantly handed her over.

Ygritte and Saia took a seat under the balcony while Arya, Nym and Tyene took turns with the bow. After that they trained with swords, then spears, then daggers. Slowly a crowd drew around them to watch, every new person making Arya more nervous. Yet every time she looked towards Ygritte she saw that Alyssa was safe. At some stage Robb and Wynafryd had joined the crowd and Arya looked up to see Alyssa safely in Robb's arms, Arya relaxed after that.

~~/~~

Over the next few days Arya trained more and more, but she always kept Alyssa close, finally Robb decided to intervene, taking Alyssa away from Arya for the day and insisting that she took some time for herself. Arya found herself roaming the Godswood, she wasn't heading anywhere in particular, just walking. Arryn flew down from one of the trees and landed on her shoulder, she scratched his head and kept walking, after a little while he flew away. Eventually her feet found their way to the glass gardens at the far end of the Godswood, they were heated by the thermal pools and it was where much of Winterfell's food was grown, the glasshouses were huge, more like glass palaces, with their own climates and seventy-eighty foot tall ceilings.

Arya wandered around the gardens for a while, between the rows of cabbages and onions, potatoes and garlic, snow peas and beats. The lines of rhubarb… There were fruit trees in here too, Apples and Pears, white fleshed Peaches and dark black Elderberries the likes of which weren't found anywhere else. Old versions of plants that most of Westeros had lost, yet the glass gardens had grown them for thousands of years, and would likely grow them for thousands more. Then there were the herb gardens, white and purple Sage, Betony, wild Clary, Lavender, Dill, Thyme, Hyssop, Comfrey, Rue, Chamomile, Bloody Dock… the list went on.

Maester Lewin, upon discovering her interest in plants, had spent many hours here with her. He'd given her books to read about the different uses for each herb and which parts to use. He'd then taken her to the gardens to recall what she had read, he'd break off a petal or a leaf here and there and made her learn their smells, their tastes. It was perhaps the only one of Arya's interests that Septa Mordane had approved of, although Septa hadn't approved of the fact that Arya had often ended up dirty in the pursuit of it.

Eventually Arya found herself in the special garden, the one where the blue roses grew. She couldn't say what pushed her to do it, but she found herself crawling under the branches into the centre of the garden, where she had found Jon hiding all those years ago. It was peaceful here, Arya lay on her back and looked up through the branches, watching the sunlight glitter as it played on the slanting roof. Slowly she drifted off to sleep.

Gentle humming woke her and she noticed an old gardener tending one of the bushes. Arya tried to move slowly so as not to startle the man, yet her head knocked one of the branches above her all the same and a shower of petals cascaded over her, she started to giggle. "Rhosyn-whoo." She whispered. For a moment she could have been her six year old self, trying to make a sad Jon laugh. She crawled out of the garden and brushed the dirt away, ignoring the questioning expression of the now slightly amused gardener.

She frowned, she didn't recognise him, he was old, but strong, with wide shoulders. His hair was white with age, but lush and full, as was his beard. There were some leaves and twigs stuck in his hair but he didn't seem to mind, he had a canvas bag on his shoulder. His hands were broad and thick, with dirt under the fingernails and green stains on them. Although she couldn't recall his name there was something very familiar about him.

"I'm sorry," She muttered. "I can't recall your name." She brushed a hand through her hair and some blue petals flew loose.

He smiled at her then, a smile like the promise of spring. "I don't believe we've ever talked, Yellow Lady." He replied, he spoke with an accent that Arya couldn't place. He extended his hand. "I'm Garth, what were you doing sleeping in the gardens?"

"I… finding some peace." Arya answered, suddenly embarrassed. His grip was strong as she shook his hand.

"Ah, very wise." Garth replied. "Few so young hold on to such wisdom." He picked a half blossomed blue rose and handed it to her. "Take some peace with you, Princess."

Arya accepted the gift. "Thank you." She whispered. "I'll leave you to your work." She turned to leave, but as she began to walk away he asked her a question.

"Princess Arya, if you could take any plant from these gardens to the gardens of Dragonstone what would you take?"

Arya thought of Aegon's Garden, of the tall dark trees that smelt like pine but weren't, of the wild roses and the dozens of different types of cranberries, slowly a smile crept across her face. "Elderberries, black, purple, blue, Maester Lewin says there are at least nine different types here, I would take one of each if I could."

Garth nodded. "That is a good choice, and what would you have Dragonstone offer in return?"

"Cranberries." Arya replied without hesitation. "Red, white, golden… there are types of berries in Aegon's Garden which surely come from Old Valyria."

Garth laughed, he reached into his canvas bag and pulled out a small bundle, the outer layer was a leaf tied with vine. "Elderberry seeds." He told her as he placed them in her hand. "One in each layer of leaf, think carefully where you plant them, as wherever you plant them they will grow."

Arya nodded and carefully took the package. "Thank you." She replied. "When I get to Dragonstone I will talk to Maester Polys about collecting Cranberry seeds for you."

Garth smiled and pulled another package out of his canvas bag. "I already have them, I just didn't know where to plant them until now."

Arya nodded. "You're not a Northerner, are you?"

"No." Garth replied. "But every time I am this way I like to visit these gardens, they are one of my favourites. I will plant these seeds as a gift before I leave."

Arya paused, if the seeds were from Aegon's garden then he had been there. "What gift did you leave in Aegon's garden the last time you were there?" She asked hesitantly.

He smiled the smile of a man who knows he is caught then. "Your rose, Arya Stark, a blue rose turned sunshine yellow at it's heart, for you have found light in the darkness, yet still frost blue around the edges, for your colours may have become yellow and black, but you will always be a Stark."

Arya swallowed thickly. "You _are_ Garth the Greenhand, aren't you?" The living god in front of her nodded. "Will you help us when winter comes?" She pleaded.

He looked sad then. "Winter is not my time, I have no power then, fighting was more Brandon's thing. The best I can do is help you prepare, I can make the harvests grow, but men still need to harvest them. Few people pray to me now, over the centuries I have become a shadow of what I once was. One day I will be forgotten completely, and then I will be no more."

"How do I fight Melisandre?" Arya asked.

"You fight fire with ice, but both destroy. War is not for me, child, go ask that tree of yours. Go dive into that black pool and see what secrets the Weirwood holds in its roots… but put the seeds somewhere safe first."

Arya nodded, she had so many questions to ask him, but eventually she settled on one. "Do you visit Rose's tears often?"

"As often as I can," He replied. "Although I seldom allow myself to be seen."

Arya nodded, she turned and left the gardens, lost in thought. She made her way through the Godswood, across the courtyard, and to the greater keep. She thought over Garth's words as she walked. When she had returned to her rooms she placed the package of seeds and the blue rose on her table. She stripped off her swords and armour, so that she was only in a shirt and pants. She left the swords behind, taking only Yoren's dagger. She grabbed a thick cloak and a towel, then returned to the Godswood.

Arya didn't know what she was looking for as she removed her boots by the Weirwood, but she made sure that the dagger was secure on her belt and dived into the black pool all the same. Garth had specifically told her to look at the roots of the Weirwood, something was hidden there, something to help with winter? Many of the tree's roots drank from the pool, yet Arya searched and searched, and still found nothing. She grabbed onto the exposed roots and used them to drag herself deeper into the pool than she had ever gone before. She was starting to really feel the cold now, yet she still found nothing. Suddenly she realised what she had done wrong, she hadn't ** _asked the tree_** , but how could she do that down here? ' ** _Blood_**.' The answer came to her. She used her feet and her right hand to hold onto roots as she carefully pulled the dagger. She placed a small cut on the palm of her right hand and placed it against the roots, drops of blood floating past her face in the water. Suddenly some of the roots moved and she could see, nestled deep within, a blue and white dragon egg.

Arya tried to dislodge the egg, but try as she might it would not come free. Suddenly she could hear Bran's voice in her head. "It needs something in return." He whispered.

Arya looked at the small dagger in her hand, it was nothing special, but it had given her strength and hope when she had sorely needed it. She placed it on a root and the root curled around it, taking it away. More roots moved and suddenly Arya could lift the egg easily. She grabbed it without hesitation and quickly made her way back to the surface, the cut on her hand leaving a bloody streak behind her. She was shaking with cold by the time she hit the surface.

Arya grabbed her things and sprinted towards the thermal pools. Boots, cloak, and towel were dropped haphazardly as she jumped into the pool's warmth and held the egg close to her chest. Maybe twenty or thirty minutes passed before Arya slowly uncurled herself and had a good look at the egg. A bright red splash of her blood marred the surface, yet the blood seemed important and Arya was reluctant to wipe it away. If the dragon within this egg could be woken from it's icy sleep it would take some serious magics. She studied the shell; blues ranging from azure through light blue to an icy whitish blue, swirls of white. In some places the shell almost looked translucent, yet it was just opaque enough to obscure what lay within.

As Arya's fingers traced the shell her mind raced, the egg reminded her of blue winter roses, Rhosyn-glas. The visions she had received from the Weirwood in the Stormlands had shown her that the blue roses had sprang up from the tears of one of Garth the Greenhand's daughters, Rose of Blue/Red lake. Those same visions had shown her that Rose and Brandon the Bloody had created a son whom had been the beginning of House Stark… And either she was losing her mind, or Garth the Greenhand himself had visited her amongst the blue roses and led her towards finding this egg. "Rhosyn-glas." She whispered, but that felt wrong… she was overthinking.

 _"People see what they expect to see… but the seeing, the true seeing, that comes before thinking…Opening your eyes is all that is needing. The heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes see true. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. Taste with your mouth. Smell with your nose. Feel with your skin. Then comes the thinking, afterward, and in that way knowing the truth."_ Syrio's lesson whispered through her mind.

Well, she certainly wasn't going to try and 'taste' the egg, but she tried to empty her mind as her fingers continued to trace the shell. Tears, everything came back to tears. "Dagrau'r Rhosyn." She whispered. "Tears of the rose… her name is Dagrau." In that moment Arya suddenly knew two things, the dragon was female, and she couldn't hatch it… but Jon could.

Arya exited the hot pool and dried herself off as best she could before wrapping the cloak around her, she hid the egg in the towel and made her way towards the Greater Keep. Once she had returned to her room she carefully hid the egg away in one of her draws and began to change out of her wet clothes, as she undressed however she discovered blood in her small-clothes. She was confused at first, but then the stories that Old Nan had told her about Garth the Greenhand came back to her.

 _"Garth Greenhand not only brought fertility to the land but also to women, little one. They say that he could make barren women fruitful with a touch, even old crones like me who no longer get their moon blood. They say that maidens ripened in his presence, that mothers brought forth twins or even triplets, sometimes more, when he blessed them. And_ _ **young girls flowered at his smile**_ _."_

Garth had smiled at her…

~~/~~

Part 55:

Arya, had finished all of her transcribing, Ser Davos and Maester Lewin had examined Ayrmidon's **_Engines of War_** **,** ensuring that the diagrams in Arya's copy were as close to the diagrams in the older text as possible. Arya's copy was done as a book, not a scroll. Each diagram a page on loses leaf, some of which had been done again and again until she was happy with them. Only once she was happy with the diagram would she add the related text and check that everything the text noted could be found. Lewin had bound the finished product into a book for her.

Arya had also done additional diagrams of certain weapons, including three types of Onager. She had a list of weapons she believed the Wall would have use of, and a list of weapons she believed the major Northern keeps would have use off. She had talked it over with Robb and he had agreed with her choices. Arya had done three copies of the documents for the Wall, one for each of the major castles along the Wall, she added a letter explaining why she believed each weapon was needed, and what she believed it's best uses were. One particular type of Onager was designed for use on high fortifications, it had a unique mechanism which allowed it to shoot both above and below it's mounting point. The mechanism was complexed, and Robb said that Mikken was not confidant that it could be built, but Arya would get Gendry and Tobho Mott to look at the design. In the short term there was no harm to send the plans to the Wall, the builders might surprise everybody. Robb had sent a messenger with six guards to deliver the documents to Castle Black.

Robb had also ordered the construction of the weapons Arya had suggested at Winterfell, once he had builders who were confident with them he would send them, and the plans, to the other Keeps one by one to improve their defences and train other builders. Robb was even considering creating a builders guild to oversee the various trades that needed to work together (masons, blacksmiths etc.) he had apparently taken inspiration from how the builders at the Wall worked. It was more evidence that Robb and father were in regular communication and working together to protect the North from enemies on all sides.

Arya had also finished copying Septon Barth's **_Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History_** , she had discovered that the book detailed over a dozen different subspecies of dragons, many of which had long been considered extinct even when the Targaryen Dynasty still had it's dragons. Arya had discovered that Opal and Dragonsteel were distinctly different types of dragon, although they were able to crossbreed. According to Septon Barth dragons tended to attune themselves to elemental factors such as metal, stone, water, earth, nature, sprit… it was all very complex. The known Targaryen dragons had mostly been Metal or Stone, however Barth suspected that Balerion had been a Greater Earth type dragon, more specifically Barth seemed to believe Balerion's aspect was Lava. Earth type dragons were known to be able to sire Earth, Stone, and Metal types.

What Arya had established was that Stone type dragons usually had smaller eggs than Metal type dragons, their heads were more rounded and they had far fewer spikes. Metal dragons tended to have more elongated noses and grow bigger than Stone type dragons, there was also noticeable dietary preferences, with metallic dragons being known for being sweet tooth's. It all certainly seemed to ring true with Opal and Dragonsteel. According to the text if you crossed a Stone type dragon with a Metal type dragon you would get Metal dragon's nine times out of ten, but if you crossed one of the offspring back to the stone parent between a quarter and a third of the resulting offspring would likely be stone type.

Septon Barth also talked about Yi-Ti dragons, and how they were different in shape: they were more snake-like, being much longer in the body, with four legs instead of two and very different wings. They generally had a long waiving fin going down the back and a frilled tail. They often had double horns, two curved and two straight, and long tendrils coming from their face like carp. They seldom had spikes. Barth called Yi-Ti dragons 'Nature' or 'Sprit' dragons, and suggested that they had stronger ties to magic, these types of dragons however had been long lost thousands of years ago, and it was believed that no Valyrian had ever gotten their hands on one.

It was all very interesting, yet Arya could only spend so much time reading. It had been raining for almost ten days solid and Arya was starting to get cabin fever. She finally reached the point that if she had to look at another scroll, book, or scrap of parchment she thought she was going to lose her mind. She went in search of Robb and asked permission to use the Great Hall for training. He refused, but suggested that she could use the Winter Nursery in the Greater Keep.

Arya agreed and went in search of people to train with, the Sand sisters were both eager to take up her offer, as was Ygritte. If Arya was honest she always felt out of place in the Winter Nursery, it was part of Robb and Jon's childhood, but not part of hers. The Winter Nursery was one of those strange rooms that didn't make sense in summer. A long hall with a low roof and no windows. Fire pits (hearths with four ridging corners going up to a chimney, and openings on all four sides) were set every twenty to thirty feet along the middle of the room. One wall was lined with cribs, the opposite wall had stacks of bunk beds three high, all narrow cots. Pipes sent scalding water from the deepest hot springs through the walls, adding additional natural heat.

In winter all of the children were put together, high and low born alike, even the orphans from Wintertown were brought in. Jory had once told Arya that they had to triple the guard during winter as mothers brought their children to the gate, and begged that they be taken in, day and night. Names were taken when they were given, however many of those mothers never returned. The mothers and wet nurses that tended to the Winter Nursery often lived in the nursery as well. In winter keeping babies alive meant more than social rank.

The Winter Nursery was where Robb and Jon had spent the first few years of their lives, they had known no light other than torch and hearth until spring had come. A number of small rooms came off one side of it, one of them was Old Nan's room, and the Winter Nursery was her domain. Even Arya's mother had submitted to Old Nan's authority there, in the Winter Nursery bastard, orphan and true born were all equals. But when spring had come, and Robb and Jon had been moved to the summer rooms, that was when Catelyn had tried to start separating them, that was when Catelyn's lack of acceptance had moved to cruelty.

The other women were fascinated with the room, and the history behind it. Saia settled in one corner with Alyssa and watched as Nymeria, Tyene, Ygritte and Arya started to train. Ygritte was around six months pregnant now, but she wasn't letting that stop her. With no windows the Hall had no sense of day or night and they quickly lost track of time, the outside world meant nothing here.

It was no wonder that they did not known that Jon and his party had returned until Jon entered the room, Ghost at his heels. Jon looked tired and dirty, he was soaked to the bone, and his left shoulder was bound in bloodied bandges, but the way his eyes lit up at the sight of Ygritte warmed Arya's heart. Once he had embraced Ygritte, and kissed her deeply, he hugged Arya and dropped a kiss on her forehead. She hugged him tightly, not caring that she was getting wet, then pulled back, Ghost rubbed against her and she let her fingers sink into his wet fur.

"I know you need to spend time with Ygritte, but before you do there is somebody I want you to meet, two somebodies actually." Arya said nervously. Jon gave her a reassuring smile and she continued. "This is Saia." Arya said indicating the wet nurse. "She's one of the bravest people I've ever met, she risked her own life to protect Princess Alyssa from Margaery."

Saia ducked her head in embarrassment and tried to hide the healing scars that Margaery's fingernails had left behind. "I'm not that brave, your grace, it doesn't take bravery to want to protect a baby."

"No," Arya agreed. "Just cowardice to want to kill one." She took Alyssa out of Saia's arms. "This is Alyssa, Margaery tried to kill her for being a girl with silver hair instead of a black-haired son, I need you to help me protect her." she placed Alyssa into Jon's arms.

Jon seemed a little stunned, he held Alyssa carefully and looked at her, stroking her hair. "She's beautiful." He whispered. "How could anybody want to kill her?"

Arya shrugged. "How could anybody have wanted to kill baby Aegon and little Rhaenys?" She challenged. "Margaery wanted to kill her for looking Targaryen instead of Baratheon." Arya replied. "Tywin wanted Elia's children killed in fear that if any of Rhaegar's children survived they might one day become a threat." She let the rest lay unspoken between them.

"Queen Margaery is unwell." Tyene defended. "It's a little different to being in the middle of a war, she has post birth depression."

Arya felt her expression harden. "She tried to kill her daughter at least twice that I know off, I stopped her the first time, but I would have been too late the second time if not for Saia's sacrifice. How is that any different to what was done to your cousins, Tyene? I don't care if she's sick, Alyssa is mine to protect now, Alyssa is pack."

Jon dropped a gentle kiss on Alyssa's forehead. "Did you hear that, Ghost. This baby girl is pack." Jon held Alyssa out to Ghost and Ghost sniffed at her, the direwolf then walked over to Ygritte and nudged her belly. Jon laughed. "Yes, that one's pack too." He gently placed Alyssa back into Arya's arms. "Of course I'll help you protect her."

Arya held Alyssa in one arm and hugged Jon with the other. "Good," She replied. "I can't wait to show you Dragonstone. Saia, come." With that she turned and left, leaving a flabbergasted Jon behind her.

Tyene and Nymeria followed behind them. "Princess Arya," Tyene called out after her. "Are you really planning to take Jon Snow with you to Dragonstone?"

Arya stopped in the corridor and nodded. "Yes." Arya answered calmly.

"And what does King Renly think about that?" Nymeria challenged.

Arya shrugged. "It doesn't matter what he thinks, Lady Olenna and I have already discussed it, you don't really think Renly's the one in charge, do you?"

Tyene and Nymeria exchanged a look. "Thank you for confirming that." Nymeria replied. "If you'll excuse us, we need to go find our father."

Arya nodded. "Nym," She paused. "Tell him to remember our previous conversation, winter is coming, let's not start another war unless we have to."

"And if we have to?" Nymeria challenged.

"We do not yet have a strong enough friendship for me to answer that question." Arya replied.

Tyene smiled. "I'd like us to be friends." She said.

"Me too," Arya agreed. "Me too."

~~/~~


	12. Chapters 56 - 60

Part 56:

It was almost two weeks since Jon had returned and Arya had hardly seen either him or Robb, she understood that there was much to be discussed, but she didn't like being left out of the discussions. Two giants had returned with Jon's group, neither of them were Mag. Obara Sand and Smalljon Umber were also missing from their number. When they returned Jon had an injured shoulder and Tormund Giantsbane was limping. The trip north of the Wall had not been discussed in open court. There were many closed door meetings over the next several days, Arya was not invited to any of them, Ser Davos was invited to some, and other Lords came and went. Robb and Jon also had a number of private conversations. Arya had half a mind to walk in, assert her presence, and demand to know what was going on. But no, she wouldn't undermine Robb like that. It was odd, she wouldn't have hesitated to do the same to Renly.

Instead she took her frustration out on the training yard. Nymeria and Tyene Sand were strangely absent, making Arya realise that she had become accustomed to their company. Occasionally Brienne of Tarth, or Sandor Clegane, would join her in her training, but neither would talk about what had happened, or what was going on. Brienne had taken on a guard role with Arya, in the name of protecting Princess Alyssa, as such Arya had either Brienne or Sandor at her side night and day. A little over a week after their return Asha Greyjoy had left quietly, and Arya was not even aware that she was leaving until she was gone. The next day Oberyn and his daughters had departed almost as quietly. Winterfell was slowly falling into a new rhythm, and Arya had no place in it. She was already mostly packed, and ready to head back to Dragonstone, she had yet to find an opportunity to try and convince Jon to go with her.

It was late one evening, almost two weeks after Jon's return. Alyssa was settled and Saia had gone to bed, leaving Arya alone with her thoughts. She picked up the blue rose off of the table and studied it, it was yet to show any signs of wilting. _"Take some peace with you, Princess."_ Garth had told her as he had given it to her. Did he intend for her to take it with her to Dragonstone? Arya frowned, she retrieved the dragon egg from its hiding place and sat down in the rocking chair beside Alyssa's crib to watch her sleep. Arya was almost dozing, her fingers tracing the scales on the shell, when she heard a light knock on the door. She quickly hid the dragon egg under a fur on her bed and placed the rose back on her table as she walked towards the door, just as the person knocked a second time.

"Arya, are you awake? It's Jon." Jon whispered in a hushed voice.

Arya opened the door. "I'm awake." She said quietly. "Keep your voice low, Alyssa's asleep." She opened the door wider to let him in.

Ghost pushed past them both, heading straight for the crib, and sniffing at it. Jon followed, he studied Alyssa for a few moments then gently stroked her silver-gold hair. "I'd forgotten how tiny babies can be." He muttered quietly as he moved away from the crib. He looked around the room. "It's getting rather cluttered in here, no thoughts of moving her back to the nursery now that the threat is gone?"

Arya shook her head. "The threat will never be gone, because of who she is, and who people think she is, both the truth and the lie put her in danger…"She frowned. "Robb's told you?" Surely he had.

Jon nodded. "Yes." He whispered as he made his way towards the two armchairs by the fire, he lent against the back of one. "Robb has told me… he's told me other things too."

Arya nodded. "Opal and Dragonsteel?" She asked.

Jon nodded, he sighed and wiped a weary hand across his forehead. "Yes… Arya, I don't think it's wise for me to come with you to Dragonstone." He gave a bitter smirk. "Both the lie and the truth make it dangerous."

"Gendry would disagree." Arya replied. "He really wants to meet his third cousin."

"You told him?" Jon asked, surprised. "Arya… do you realise how dangerous that is?!"

Arya shook her head. "It's Gendry," She protested. "I know you haven't met him yet, but he's pack, I trust him completely." Jon said nothing, but his expression was sceptical. Arya sighed and tried to explain. "I… we were sorting through the room that Renly had forced him to take at Dragonstone. I… we found a letter in one of the draws, from Aunt Lyanna to Rhaegar. The room was Rhaegar's room. I told him that he has a third cousin, one that is also my first cousin… I did not give him a name."

"Arya… I'm glad you trust him, that's good, especially considering that you are now betrothed. But Gendry is the first in line to the Iron Throne, my presence would only complicate things. Opal and Dragonstone prove that I have no right to go."

Ah, that was the problem, Jon thought he had no right to go because two of his Baratheon cousins had hatched dragons. Arya walked towards the bed. "Dagrau'r Rhosyn would disagree with that, she's been waiting for you for a very long time."

Jon gave her a confused look. "Rose's tears?"

Arya nodded and pulled the egg out from under the furs. "She's been hidden in the black pool for a very long time, locked in the roots of the Weirwood. I found her, and I was able to wake her up, but I can't hatch her. You can. Dagrau needs you, or she will die." She placed the egg into his hands.

Jon looked down at the egg in his hands in shock. "Warm." He muttered. He traced his fingers along a line of pale blue on the shell. "How?" he whispered.

Arya smiled at him. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Somehow I knew of her even before I found the egg, I had a dream, I saw her as a Cyvasse piece, I… the dream got interrupted. Alyssa was in danger."

Jon's frown deepened. "What do you mean 'it got interrupted'?"

Arya shook her head. "I was standing on a giant Cyvasse board, I could see my pieces, and Daenerys'… two of her dragons had chains around their necks, I could see Sansa, she was a direwolf carved of Weirwood… I think I saw the golden company, Daenerys had tried to make them hers, but they had refused. I could see Tormund… I could see some of the Night King's pieces… He has a Weirwood… Then suddenly Alyssa was in the middle of the board crying. I woke up and _knew_ she was in danger. But I never would have gotten there in time if Saia hadn't put herself in harm's way."

She sat down in one of the armchairs and Jon sat down in the other, Ghost curled up between them. She talked about her dream, and Alyssa, about Saia's bravery. Jon told her about the expedition beyond the wall. They hadn't known where to look for the Night King, so they had tried to lure him into a trap. Father had arranged a meeting with all the major clans at Hardhome, the land was naturally fortified, surrounded by cliffs and sea, with only one way in by land. That is, unless you were an undead wright that could throw yourself off of a large cliff and keep attacking. Ser Alliser Thorne, now First Ranger in Uncle Benjen's absence, had accompanied them with two score men, including archers. Jon described Alliser as cynical and bitter, but the old knight had changed his tune after seeing with his own eyes.

Obara Sand had died bravely; refusing to run to the safety of the boats, she had continued to fight so that others might flee. She had fallen, but worse still, she had risen again. Oberyn had to hurl his spear at her to end her, losing it in the process. In a way it was poetic, Obara had lived, and died, by the spear. Smalljon was still alive, but badly wounded, and had been returned home to Last Hearth. He owed his life to Sandor Clegane. The only truly good news was that the weapons worked well, and Jon had proven that Valyrian steel could kill a White. (A fact that Arya already knew.) Eventually Jon left her to get some sleep, he took the dragon egg with him. He was still undecided about going to Dragonstone with her, but he seemed more open about it.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, it was Brienne at Arya's door when she awoke. Arya was quite happy to leave Sandor and Brienne to decide the guard schedule between themselves, so she never actually knew which one she would have. Arya carried Alyssa as they made their way to breakfast, but over the course of the meal everybody took their turn in holding the baby, even Theon. It was interesting watching Brienne watch them, there was almost a sense of wistfulness to her as she witnessed just how much Alyssa was loved.

"Did you want to hold her for a while, Ser Brienne?" Wynafryd asked gently.

Brienne averted her gaze and shook her head. "No, I…"

Wynafryd smiled and stood up, Alyssa safely in the crook of her arm. "There are plenty of guards, Lady Tarth, and I am sure you will be in Princess Alyssa's service for a very long time. It is my hope that you will be one of her role models, you will serve her better if you love her. Here, sit, hold her." Wynafryd gestured to a seat. Brienne obeyed and Wynafryd gently placed Alyssa in her arms. "You need to support the head." Wynafryd advised, adjusting Brienne's hand.

It was beautiful the way Brienne's face softened as she held Alyssa, after a while she began to start softly tracing the girls features. Wynafryd gave Arya a smile and a wink, then continued with her meal. Did Fred know the truth of Alyssa? There was no way to ask the question in present company. Eventually the conversation moved to Arya returning south, and Ygritte declared that she was going with her, Jon could do as he pleased. Theon laughed as he tried to reach for the last piece of spicy sausage, he was so busy laughing that he didn't notice that Robb had pulled the plate away and pushed it towards Arya. Theon grabbed only air and looked up just in time to see Arya bite the sausage in half. Jon tried to look betrayed, then relented, and agreed to go with them. From the looks between Jon and Ygritte it seemed that it had already been decided. Arya couldn't help but smile, Ygritte was good for Jon.

Plans were made, Ser Davos and the Baratheon soldiers at his command would be traveling south with them, Gendry had pledged to take 100 Freefolk, but Davos did not have the men with him to ensure their safe arrival. Robb also wanted to give Arya a personal guard of 100 men, one for each Freefolk, but she talked him down to forty. He gave Jon twenty as well, making a total of sixty. Once servants and families were added in, and Ser Davos and the men with him, their number totalled almost 250. Things moved quickly from there, they arranged to leave at first light the next morning. But when first light came Arya found herself at the foot of the Weirwood, she knew that once she walked out the gate Winterfell would no longer be her home. As she turned to leave the kestrel, Arryn, flew down from the Weirwood and landed on her shoulder. He stayed there as she said her goodbyes, even as Robb hugged her. As they began to ride south Jon brought his horse up beside her.

"You're awfully quiet." He noted, concern in his voice.

Arya nodded thoughtfully. "It's kind of final, you know? Two years ago when I left I thought of Winterfell as home, and it will always be in my heart. But I'm thirteen now, betrothed, and a maid flowered. There is no guarantee that I will ever return."

Jon swallowed thickly. "I understand that, but I think you will, besides, you can't be married off too quickly. Robb can't leave to give you away until he's fathered a child."

Arya raised an eyebrow at that. "And what if I want you to give me away?"

Jon shook his head. "Arya, I'm not a Stark."

"I know," Arya replied. "But you are my blood… whatever else you are, you will always be my blood."

Jon nodded. "I know, I love you too… _little sister._ "

Arya rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, if we make good time we should be able to reach Castle Cerwyn before nightfall."

Jon chuckled. "You do realise that half our number are walking, we'll be lucky to make it by lunch time tomorrow."

Arya shook her head. "Not if we rotate out who is on the waggons every hour or so."

Jon raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh, you've led caravans before?"

Arya pinned him with a serious look. "Yes actually, rotating out who walks really does work, trust me."

Jon nodded. "We'll try it then, but it's a long way to King's Landing, let's not wear them out."

Arya nodded, she was right though, the rotating did work, and the Freefolk were very receptive to the idea, they hadn't expected to be treated as equals. They didn't reach Castle Cerwyn by nightfall, but Arya had sent riders ahead and confirmed that food and beds would be waiting for them, and the idea of a safer place to camp kept the Freefolk moving, two hours after sunset they reached the Castle gates. Arya felt it was worth the push, having a roof over their heads and beds to sleep in for the first night of the journey seemed good for moral, but she knew she couldn't keep pushing them this hard.

Arya, Jon, Ygritte and Ser Davos broke fast with Medger Cerwyn and his family the next morning, and Arya did everything in her power to make them fall in love with Princess Alyssa. They left mid-morning and Arya allowed the caravan to set an easier pace, but she still insisted on rotating out who was walking frequently, they reached Moat Cailin in just over a week and a half. And the Crannogmen had hundreds of loaves of freshly baked bread ready for them when they arrived. Arya was thankful, and gracious, she knew that things would only get more difficult from here on south.

~~/~~

Part 57:

Arya rode the length of the caravan from front guard to rear guard, rotating who was walking and checking everybody was okay. She saw a Freefolk man limping and immediately found him a place on a cart. She checked in with Brienne, Alyssa and Saia. She talked with the butcher and the baker about their supplies. She broke up an argument about a horse by taking it away from both men and giving it to a pregnant woman. She took two guards and chased after a group of children that had wandered too far away from the column. She identified the people that were walking the slowest and tried to work out why, were they not fit enough? Were they injured? Were they not getting enough food or water? Then she returned from rear guard to front guard and did it all again. She settled in beside Jon for a while and noticed him giving her a strange look.

"What?" She asked, frowning.

Jon shook his head and chuckled. "Nothing… just, you're awfully good at this, aren't you?"

Arya's frown turned into a scowl. "Good at what?"

"Leading," Jon replied. "Who'd have thought?"

Arya's expression turned to confusion. "When we were traveling South with King Robert Father said a caravan is like a chain, you have to look after every link or the chain falls apart."

"Funny," Jon replied. "That's what he told me about an army."

"Well he's right though, isn't he?" Arya challenged.

Jon nodded. "Father…" He faltered, then started again, saying the first word more firmly. " _Father_ would know every name by now."

"I'm working on it." Arya replied. She moved her horse in close to Jon's and squeezed his hand, she lent in close and whispered. "I think both your father's would, Isaeyan."

He gave her a sad look and shrugged. "Maybe, guess we'll never know." He said quietly. Then he straightened and pulled away from her. "My turn." He announced and started to make his way towards the front guard.

~~/~~

They moved slower than King Robert's caravan had, they had not detoured from the Kings Road, but Lords had come to meet them, see Alyssa, and travel with them for a time. Howland Reed personally travelled with them from Moat Cailin until they exited the Neck, and many Crannogmen came and went along the way. Everybody wanted to see the silver-haired babe, and Arya did everything in her power to make them all love the child. Yet there was something strange in Howland Reed's behaviour around both the babe and Jon. Eventually Arya realised that Howland had been with Father at the Tower of Joy, he had to know the truth.

As they exited the Neck Howland Reed offered his farewells, Arya halted the caravan, telling them to make camp, and asked Howland to walk with her a while. He agreed, she put Alyssa in Ser Brienne's care and asked Jon to join them. Sandor tried to follow but Arya told him firmly that this conversation was not for his ears. They walked a short distance, keeping the camp in sight, as they stopped Arya reached over and patted Ghost's fur then turned to Howland Reed. "I get the feeling you carry a Stark secret heavily." She said quietly. "You'll not forgive me for adding a Baratheon secret to that burden, but I'm going to."

"Arya." Jon cautioned.

"Isaeyan." Arya replied, looking him in the eyes. "One day the time for Howland Reed to make a choice will come, it is clear that Alyssa's Valyrian features, so much more obvious than your own, concern him, Father trusts him, why can't we?"

"With all due respect, Princess Arya, your father did not have a choice." Howland said quietly. He turned to Jon. "I am glad you finally know your name, but I worry what that means."

"My name is Jon Snow." Jon said firmly. "It may not be the name my mother gave me, but it's the name I was raised under." He paused, looking at Arya, then continued speaking. "Just as Alyssa Snow, of House Baratheon, will be raised under the name of Alyssa Baratheon."

"Snow?" Howland Reed questioned.

Arya nodded, she continued to stroke Ghost's fur. "Gendry paid a very high price for Dragonstone." She said quietly. "I have to protect his daughter, I hope you will help me do so."

Howland shook his head in astonishment. "I… gods! Ha, no wonder you are working so hard to make everybody love her, if the truth comes out…"

"If the truth comes out best remind everybody that the moment Renly legitimised Gendry Gendry's claim became better than his." Arya said quietly. "Best remind everyone that this news does not make any impact on Alyssa's place in the line of succession."

Howland shook his head. "So, Kingmaker, what are you going to do?"

Arya shrugged. "Nothing so long as Renly is a good king."

"And if he fails to be a good king?" Howland challenged. "Isaeyan or Gendry? You seem to be placed in a difficult position."

"I don't want-" Jon started to protest.

"Neither does Gendry." Arya said firmly, cutting Jon's protests off. "But it is something that the two of you will need to sit down and discuss. When your Aunt comes offering Fire and Blood our only hope may be a better Targaryen claim." She returned her attention back to Howland. "Right now I'm more concerned with keeping Alyssa safe."

Howland nodded. "Well you're doing it right so far, you should stop at the Twins next."

An image of Robb's decapitated body being paraded around on a horse, with Grey Wind's head on top of it, sprang across her eyes. Arya stepped backwards and pulled a face in disgust. "The Twins! I want nothing of Walder Frey."

Howland looked at her carefully. "That's a violent reaction, why do you hate the Frey's so much?"

"Because I've seen what they're capable of." Arya replied.

Howland nodded. "Jojen has been known to get visons too, tell me."

Arya shook her head. "What do you want me to tell you? That your son isn't coming home? That he will die for Bran, and Meera will be left questioning if it was worth the cost?" She snapped, she knew her words were cruel, but she was angry, and when she got angry she tended to lash out. "Do you want me to tell you that I have seen Walder Frey violate guest right? That I have seen Robb's dead body paraded around on a horse with Grey Wind's decapitated head on top while Frey men mocked 'The King in the North'?!"

Jon grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Arya, Arya, look at me, that hasn't happened… that doesn't _have_ to happen."

Arya shook her head, tears running down her face. "I'm not taking her near the Frey's, I can't! I'm not putting her in danger like that!"

Howland Reed remained calm. "I have already said goodbye to my son." He said quietly. "From what you have just told me it seems we need to get the Frey's onside. They can field and feed thousands of men, and their bridge is strategic. Your grandfather, Hoster Tully, and his father before him, have treated Walder poorly. They disrespected him constantly, he may not be a good man, but he has his reasons. When the war for the dawn comes their army and their harvests might be the difference between life and death. I see the wolf-blood raging in you, be smarter than your Aunt Lyanna, be smarter than your Uncle Brandon, learn to calm it, learn to be a cunning wolf like your father. Go into the weasel's den and make him love you, you're not planning to detour to Riverrun, are you?"

"No." Arya replied, she frowned, confused by the question.

Howland nodded. "Good, tell him that, give him something to elevate himself over Hoster in his own mind. Be better than your grandfather, show the cunning old fool some respect. And make sure you stop at House Darry along the way as well, they lost much after the Battle of the Trident. Take three or four months to reach King's Landing if you have to, stop at every major or minor keep you can find along the way, but those two keeps matter. Part of why the Tully's look down on Walder is because he raises his natural born sons beside his trueborn, that's why your mother struggled so much about Jon. Let Walder know that the Stark's see no issue in this. King Torrhen Stark and his brother, Brandon Snow, were raised side by side."

Arya nodded, it was good advice, she knew it, but… she sighed. "I see why father speaks so highly of you." She said quietly. "What I said about Jojen, I'm sorry, it's not set in stone, Bran will try and prevent it."

Howland nodded. "I know he tried." He replied sadly. "But Jojen is already dead, I felt it."

"I…" Arya shook her head. "I'm sorry."

Howland shook his head. "Jojen was born to lead your brother to the Children of the Forest, and Meera will leave that cave with Dark Sister, a Marsh Witch told me as much long ago. That's why I made Meera my heir." He clutched her shoulder. "You have a lot of fighting to do, Stark, but you need to learn a different type of battle, one that your House isn't good at. You need to learn politics, you need to learn to soften that tongue and work with people that you detest. Start with House Frey, do not let them see your contempt."

Arya didn't want to do it, but suddenly Gendry's words floated across her mind. _"_ _ **It's not about you or me though, is it? It's about the war that's coming, none of them will be prepared, we have to do everything we can to give them a chance…"**_ As angry as Arya was she had decided that she couldn't blame Theon for another life's mistakes, by that logic didn't Walder Frey also deserve a chance? Arya sighed. "Thank you." She said quietly.

"Any time, Stark, and time." Howland replied.

It was odd, at the start of the conversation he had been calling her Princess Arya, and now he was calling her Stark, did that mean she had managed to gain his respect? Arya didn't know. Howland and his men departed, Arya and Jon discussed the situation with Ser Davos. Jon empathised with her reluctance, but agreed that tactically this was an opportunity that couldn't be overlooked, especially as the North would need to trade with them for food over Winter. He also suggested that instead of talking about armies of undead Arya play on the old man's pride and ambition, let him see the Dragonsteel weapons, let him see the potential to own such a weapon.

Finally they decided to send a message and let Walder Frey decide if they would visit or not:

 _Lord Walder Frey, Master of the crossing._

 _I, Princess Arya of House Stark, and my brother, Jon Whitewolf Snow of Winterfell, are traveling south escorting Princess Alyssa of House Baratheon to King's Landing. As she was born at Winterfell no Lord in the Riverlands has yet had the opportunity to see her, not even my Grandfather, Lord Paramount Hoster Tully. I will not be detouring to Riverrun, however, as we are passing close to your lands I am happy to detour to the Twins if you wish it. I am sure that you have seen many babies in your long and prosperous life, and one more may not mean that much to you, therefore I leave the decision in your hands._

 _Sincerely,  
Princess Arya Stark of Winterfell, betrothed of Prince Gendry of Dragonstone. Yellow Lady, Kingmaker, Queen of Bastards._

Jon looked over the message and questioned the fact that she had mentioned him at all, let alone the fact that she had named him Whitewolf, but Arya replied that she was taking Howland Reed's advice. They sent Ser Davos and six guards, three of House Baratheon and three of House Stark, with the message. It took three days for the riders to return, but when they did so it was with a host of over 200 Frey soldiers led by a man well in his sixties. The man introduced himself as Ser Stevron Frey, heir to the twins, he then followed that up with a joke about his father's longevity. Stevron seemed much nicer than his father, and Arya didn't recall him from the feast where she had poisoned the Frey's, that was odd. He looked a lot like his father and she was sure she would have remembered him. It raised some interesting questions, perhaps not all of the Frey's had agreed with Walder's actions?

Stevron said that Lord Frey was honoured by the request and welcomed their visit, the caravan was surrounded by the Frey men and escorted to the Twins. The main caravan was asked to camp some distance from the bridge and Arya set out with a small party to the Twins. Arya was nervous, but she had both Brienne and Sandor with her, and Ser Davos was good at calming things down. Jon and Ghost stayed close to her as they entered the bridge, Arya had advised him not to let them put Ghost in a kennel, no matter what.

Walder was just as horrible as she remembered and his greeting wasn't very warm, but he seemed happy to have been offered this opportunity to get one up on Hoster Tully. When he complained that Hoster hadn't come to his last wedding Arya stated that she heard that her Grandfather was very sick and pointed out that he hadn't come to his own grandson's coronation or wedding either. Walder countered by complaining that he hadn't come to the wedding before that. Arya replied honestly, stating that she had never actually met her Grandfather, and therefore could not comment. Walder was surprised by that.

They were shown to rooms and offered baths, Arya changed into her dress for supper and reluctantly left her blades behind. It was an hour into supper when a messenger arrived with a raven's message, Hoster read the message then had it brought to her. The note looked worn, as it had been handled many times before Arya had received it, she wondered how old it was? Arya couldn't make sense of it at first, on a second reading she recognised her mother's handwriting. Hoster Tully was dead. It seemed that Walder had known of Hoster's death prior to their arrival, this was clearly staged to test if she had known. She wordlessly handed the note to Jon, who read it, then passed it to Ser Davos.

"It seems your Uncle Edmure is Lord of Riverrun now, imprudent boy." Walder scowled. "Does this change your plans?" He asked, leaning forward, it was as if he was trying to catch her in a lie, but she truly hadn't known.

"I… no." Arya shook her head. "I need to deliver Princess Alyssa safely to her father, and I have one hundred Freefolk to transport to Dragonstone, I can't go traipsing through the Riverlands."

"Your Aunt Lyanna did." He snapped. Ah, so that was it, he had believed that they had intended to go to Riverrun all along, that they were playing him.

"Yes, Aunt Lyanna did many reckless things," She replied. "And look what trouble that caused, no thank you."

He looked her up and down. "Very sensible," he replied slowly. "And what do you want from me? More than just to show me a baby, I'm sure, you want me to take some of these Freefolk in?"

"And if I did, would you?" Arya asked.

Walder spat. "I've got too many of my own, look around, they pile up on me, this is just mine, and not all of them! I'm trying to get rid of some, I have more daughters than I can marry off."

"And more sons than you can give land to." Arya replied. "The Wall can always use good men, the need is real, my father wouldn't have taken the Black if it wasn't."

Walder laughed. "I've sent a few, could send a few more, but what do I gain out of it?"

It was Jon that replied, his words careful and measured. "Forgive me if I speak out of place, Lord Frey, but does House Frey have an ancestral weapon?" He intentionally brushed his fingertips against Longclaw.

"No." Walder replied, "And even if we did I wouldn't be giving it away to some bastard."

Arya quickly understood what Jon was aiming at. "Sandor, show him your greatsword." She said quietly, Sandor did as she requested. "Looks like Valyrian Steel, doesn't it? It's not, Longclaw is Valyrian steel if you wish to compare, but that sword is Dragonsteel, and you'll not find it anywhere other than Dragonstone. Only two people can make it, Tobho Mott and Prince Gendry Baratheon. Now that blade wasn't made specifically for Sandor, it's from stock intended for the Wall, but Sandor earned it. Brienne, show him your Morningstar." Sandor put the greatsword away and Brienne showed Walder her weapon. "That weapon was made specifically for Ser Brienne, by Prince Gendry's own hand. Her longsword wasn't." She paused, wondering if Brienne would forgive her next action. "Ser Brienne, are you attached to the longsword?"

"No, your grace." Brienne replied calmly, she gave Arya a questioning look. Arya gave a slight nod and Brienne removed the longsword, placing it on the table, she then stepped backwards.

"Do I have your attention now, Lord Frey?" Arya asked.

Walder nodded. "Yes."

Arya smiled. "Good." She yawned. "I'm tired, you can discuss how you're planning to support the Wall with Jon and Ser Davos, the Wall needs food, horses, and men. You can discuss how many Freefolk you are going to take in, and if you have room for any giants, I'm sure Robb'll welcome your envoy. Why not set an example to the rest of the Riverlands? Show them up!" She yawned again, albeit a little forced, and rose from her seat. She took Alyssa out of Saia's arms and dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead before making her way back to her rooms, Saia and her guards following.

Arya asked for ink and parchment that she might pen a raven to her mother before she retired. She stated that she had stopped at the Twins on the way south and heard the sad news, she apologised that she could not make the detour to Riverrun due to the size of her company, and the fact that she and Jon were transporting Freefolk. She knew the raven would ruffle some feathers, but what else could she do? She was well aware that Walder Frey would read the message before the raven was sent as she gave it to the servant. Was it enough? Could House Frey be counted on when it really mattered? She didn't know. The next morning, when they were returned to their caravan, Ser Davos and Jon did seem confident that she had done some good, but only time would tell. Once the Frey men were gone Arya immediately promised Brienne that the longsword would be replaced.

"That's not required, your grace." Brienne said quietly.

"Yes, it is." Arya replied firmly.

"No," Brienne disagreed. "It would lessen the gift, that fact that it was taken from a member of King Renly's guard makes the sword more valuable, if you replace it that undermines the good will you have created. Besides, Ser Loras was quite injured at me receiving two weapons, it may lesson his hurt some, and make my life easier."

Arya nodded. "As you wish, I will not have it replaced immediately, but you will have another Dragonsteel sword before winter comes."

Brienne nodded. "If that pleases you, your grace."

"It would please me to have you armoured head to toe in it, but that is not a promise I can make." Arya replied. "I will do what I can."

They continued the slow journey south, their reception at House Darry was stiff at first, but when Arya placed Alyssa into Lord Raymun Darry's arms something in him softened. "She looks…" He muttered.

"Yes, I know. We need to protect her." Arya replied.

Lord Raymun met her gaze. "Yes, yes we do." He agreed. "Yes we do."

~~/~~

Part 58:

They stayed at House Darry for about a week and Lord Raymun rode with them to the crossroads, at Arya's request a small group of them detoured to the Ruby Ford at the Trident. It was just Arya, Jon, Ser Davos, Lord Raymun Darry and a handful of guards. It was strange for Arya to be back there, this was where her second chance had started, and she found herself questioning her choices more and more lately. She walked along the shore where she and Mycah had looked for rubies for almost half a day before playing at sword fighting with long sticks. She still remembered both versions of events so clearly.

Arryn flew from her shoulder and started hovering above the water, he circled a couple of times, then dove, catching a large fish, he settled in one of the few trees that speckled the area to enjoy his catch. Lord Darry walked to the water's edge, looking out in contemplation. Jon seemed to be taking in the entire area, as if trying to visualise how the battle must have played out, Ghost staying close enough to be touched every time that Jon reached out. Ser Davos stood back, leaving each to their thoughts, he seemed to be observing everybody.

Arya reached down and touched a patch of grass, there, that was where Joffrey had fallen and begged her for his life, but that hadn't happened, she'd changed things. She'd saved Mycah, and lost his friendship in the process. She'd saved Lady, saved Father. She'd saved Orys and Berra, Luke and Ella, Robar and Gally… She's saved Robb, and Mother… could she have saved more? Maybe? But the Wall was more prepared, thanks to Father, and the Freefolk had a better chance. People were actually listening and accepting that there was a threat. Oberyn had seen, even if he had lost a daughter, he'd seen! That had to mean something. And Gendry was working on weapons to fight. He'd paid a high price to help her, she worried how he would react to Alyssa, what would she do if he rejected the child? Exactly what her father had done when her mother had rejected Jon, refuse to send the child away and protect it as best she could.

She looked up and noticed that Lord Darry was trailing his fingers in the water's edge, he had lost three brothers here, she wondered how often he came to visit them? Jon had also lost his father here, the body never recovered, although he had spent much of his life not knowing it. Ghost made his way into the water, onto the actual Ford that Rhaegar and Robert had fought on, and Jon followed him out, not seeming to care that his boots were filling with water. Something seemed to catch Jon's eye, maybe an interesting pebble? He reached down into the water and picked it up, he seemed to look at it for a long while before closing his hand around it. Arya watched Lord Darry watching him as he made his way back to shore. None of them had spoken since they had arrived here, all lost in their own thoughts, so even though Jon's voice was quiet when he addressed Lord Darry it seemed abrupt.

"You lost a lot here." Jon said quietly as he came to stand before the older man.

"A lot of people did." Lord Darry replied quietly.

Jon nodded, he looked thoughtful. "Yes, but House Darry was simply being loyal to its Prince, in return for your loyalty you lost three brothers, your Prince, and much of your wealth and land. Eddard Stark was fighting for his sister and his life."

"It was not Eddard Stark that striped me of my lands." Lord Darry answered.

"No, but then King Aerys demanded Robert Baratheon's head also." Jon replied, meeting his gaze.

"Did he?" Lord Darry challenged. "Why Eddard's but not Benjen's? Why Robert's, but not Stannis' or Renly's?"

Jon looked thoughtful. "I do not know. I think… in war I thing that there are few right answers and many wrong ones. You should know that Lord Eddard took no joy in your family's suffering, I… we didn't talk about the war much, but I have never heard him speak ill of his enemies, you were simply on different sides of a conflict."

Lord Darry shook his head. "A bastard boy telling me that his Lord Father does not hate me, that's small consolation, lad."

"I know." Jon agreed, he opened up his hand and revealed a small ruby, worn down by almost two decades in the stream. "This is small consolation also, but please take it." He pressed the ruby into Lord Darry's hand.

Lord Darry looked down at the ruby in shock. "I…" He shook his head as if to gather his thoughts. "You Stark's are not as expected." He said to Jon.

Jon gave him a sad half smiled and shook his head. "As you so rightly pointed out but a moment ago, I'm not a Stark." He said quietly. He reached out and patted Ghost, then walked back towards the horses. Arya smiled sadly, if only Lord Darry knew… maybe one day he would? She turned, meaning to return to the horses as well, but froze when she heard a direwolf howl. Ghost raised his head and Jon turned to look at her. "Is that…?"

"Nymeria." Arya confirmed. "She's been keeping an eye on Melisandre for me… if she's close, that means…"

"Shit!" Davos swore. "We're not ready!"

"Not ready for what?" Lord Darry asked.

"The Brotherhood Without Banners, and the Red Witch that is corrupting their minds." Arya replied. "I, um… don't suppose I mentioned I'm a Warg? Or that I've made an enemy of a Shadowbinder, from Asshai, whom enjoys burning people alive? "

Lord Darry shook his head and frowned. "I'm sorry, I'm not a superstitious man, I don't believe-"

"You don't have to believe." Ser Davos snapped. "The people following her believe, I should know, one of them is my son!"

Arya didn't wait for the reply, there wasn't time, she quickly warged into Nymeria to get a sense of the situation. She looked through the eyes of the pack, dozens of eyes. She saw Ser Beric, Melisandre, and Thoros of Myr… she saw Anguy and three or four others that she could not name, they were heading towards the Ruby Ford. Arya had returned to herself for less than a second when she sent her mind reaching out again, this time to Arryn, she soared with him as he flew towards the main part of the caravan to check on them, to check on Alyssa and Ygritte. Even in the kestrel's mind she was still aware of Nymeria, five or six wolves were also sent towards the caravan.

She came back to herself as Nymeria howled again, closer this time. Lord Darry was staring at her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "What by the Seven?" He asked.

"No, not the Seven." Jon replied. "We follow the old gods, call your guards in, we can't protect the horses."

Arya shook her head, something was wrong… something…

 _"How do I fight Melisandre?" Arya asked._

 _"You fight fire with ice, but both destroy. War is not for me, child, go ask that tree of yours… but put the seeds somewhere safe first." Garth answered_

Arya shook her head, why was she thinking about that now? What was she missing? She brushed her hand against her pocket and felt the small package of seeds.

 _"Elderberry seeds." Garth told her as he placed them in her hand. "One in each layer of leaf,_ _ **think carefully where you plant them, as wherever you plant them they will grow.**_ _"_

That last part seemed important, but she still didn't understand.

 _"There is a darkness in you." Melisandre whispered. The hand that held Arya's face was bone and rotting flesh, the face was sunken and rotting, the hair thin and greyed, flames burnt where the witch's eyes should be._

 _Arya opened her mouth. "_ _ **Melony, Lot Seven!**_ _" she yelled, but the voice was not her own and she did not know the language that the words were said in. Melisandre pulled back from her and the flames in Melisandre's eyes went out, she fell to the ground, a pile of rotting bones in a red robe. Melisandre's horse started foaming at the mouth and reared up, smashing it's hooves down on the ruby of Melisandre's necklace again and again, but the gem would not break and the horse's hooves were getting bloody,_ _ **the trees were screaming.**_

Nymeria howled again, very near this time, it sounded as if she was just across the water. Damn it! Arya was so close! The answer was right there! "Trees." Arya whispered. "Something about the trees…" Then suddenly Melisandre was there, dressed in red, on a horse with a red padded saddle, the Brotherhood were with her, guards reached for their weapons and Nymeria bounded across the Ruby Ford, five wolves and three hounds with her. "No!" Arya yelled. "Don't draw your weapons!" Everybody froze. Nymeria came up beside her.

"You should listen to her." Melisandre replied in that sing-song voice of hers. "Those blades won't kill me."

"This one might." Jon replied, tapping Longclaw.

Melisandre looked intrigued. "Yes, that might, but I don't see my death coming at your hands." She slid off of her horse and took a couple of steps towards him. "I have seen you though, in the flames, tell me what's your name?"

"Azor Ahai." Arya answered before Jon could. "He is the song of ice and fire, the one you've been looking for, but you've been so busy following false prophets, burning people alive, and misinterpreting your visions, that you missed that, _Melony_."

Melisandre turned cold eyes on Arya. "Where did you hear that name from?!" she snapped.

"The trees," Arya replied. "The gods of tree and stone and stream talk to me."

"Those gods are not real, child, there is only R'hllor and the Other; A god of light and love and joy, and an entity of darkness, evil, and fear, eternally at war."

Arya knew she had the answer to beat the Red Woman, she just couldn't _see_ it! Syrio's words about seeing came back to her then. _"Look with your eyes, listen with your ears, feel with your skin…"_ She tried to empty her mind, tree's, that was the clue. Her hand slipped into her pocket and wrapped around the package of Elderberry seeds. Suddenly she knew! When she spoke her voice was strangely calm. "Do you truly believe that?" She asked quietly.

"Yes." Melisandre replied.

Arya nodded, she pulled the package out of her pocket. "I truly believe that I have met Garth the Greenhand, he gave me these Elderberry seeds, but if what you say is true no Elderberry seed can harm you. Garth told me that wherever I plant these seeds they will grow. If your faith is certain, let me plant one under your tongue."

"I…" Melisandre seemed surprised.

"If you doubt, then you must order Matthos to return to his father." Arya said calmly, she watched as Melisandre's gaze flicked to the young man that must be Matthos, then returned to her. She slowly began to unwrap one layer of leaf and reveal a seed.

"I do not doubt." Melisandre replied, she stepped forward, and as she did so Arya realised that she was standing on exactly the same patch of earth where Joffrey had once pleaded for his life. Melisandre opened her mouth and Arya placed the seed under her tongue. Everybody seemed to hold their breath. A few moments passed, than Melisandre smiled, she turned her head towards the one that must be Matthos. "See, Matthos, I told you there is only one g-"

Her words were cut off abruptly as a green shoot pushed through her tongue, suddenly she looked panicked, she clawed at her mouth, trying to pull the seed out, but it was too late. Everybody moved out of her way as she stumbled, roots were growing out of the bottom of her jaw now, and wrapping around her hands, binding her. A root shot through the ruby of her necklace, shattering it, the glamour faded and an ugly, ancient, woman stood before them. Roots and branches wrapped around her, engulfing her, eventually the roots hit the ground and bound her to the spot. Arya realised that she was standing about where Arya had been standing when she had come back in time. Everybody else seemed to be looking on in fear, but Arya was perfectly calm. Eventually Melisandre was engulfed and a full grown Elder tree stood before them, a face carved into it. The tree began to blossom.

"You killed her!" Matthos screamed and stared charging towards Arya, sword drawn.

"No, I changed her." Arya replied. "She's still alive, see the face? She's bound to the tree now. She wanted to live forever, and now she can."

Matthos looked at her in horror. "You're a monster! A servant of the Other!"

"I'm a monster." Arya agreed. "But I'm nobody's servant, and the other cannot offer life." She reached out a hand to Nymeria and Nymeria licked it, then turned and took the pack away. Arya started to walk towards the horses.

"Wait!" Thoros of Myr called out. "If the Lord of Light isn't real how have I been able to bring Beric back?"

"Love." Arya answered. "He is your friend and you wanted him back, so you willed it, you reached out to tree and stream and rock, and yes, even flame, and took the power you needed to bring him back. You've resurrected him what? Five times?"

"Yes." Thoros agreed.

"And every time he is less." Arya replied. "Tell me, when will you love him enough to let him go?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She mounted her horse and rode back to the caravan, it was over an hour before Jon, Lord Darry, and Ser Davos returned, but when they did Matthos was with them. Lord Darry bid them farewell, but would not meet Arya's gaze, she knew her actions had rattled him. His only parting words to her were "You Stark's are not as expected."

Later in the evening Jon approached her. "What you did at the Ruby Ford, was that necessary?" He asked quietly.

Arya nodded. "More than you know." She replied.

Jon nodded. "I…" He sighed. "Sometimes you scare me, Arya."

"Sometimes I scare myself." Arya replied honestly. "But what I did today I don't regret. When winter comes I will have to do worse, and I will do it."

Jon ran a weary hand across his eyes. "Did you really get those seeds from Garth the Greenhand?" He asked. Arya nodded. "Gods." He muttered. "And what you said, about me being Azor Ahai…?"

"Rhaegar knew." Arya said quietly. "Everything he did was for you, he knew you were the only one that can save us… I… I've only seen some of his writings, but Gendry will show you. You're our best hope against the Night King."

"And last time I failed." Jon muttered.

"This time we'll be ready." Arya reassured him. She hopped that it was true… she hoped. But until winter actually came who could say?

~~/~~

Part 59:

It took just over six weeks to reach the Crownlands and Arya was steadily becoming more concerned about how advanced Ygritte's pregnancy was, it suddenly felt important to Arya that the child be born on Dragonstone. They didn't delay anywhere nearly as long as they had dallied at Castle Darry. Once they exited the Riverlands and entered the Crownlands their welcomes were markedly less warm. It was early morning, and they were about half a day's ride out from King's Landing, when a large party in Baratheon colours came to escort them into the city. The party was at least three hundred strong, and was led by Ser Loras.

Loras was quick to advise Arya that Renly had no intentions of allowing her to bring one hundred _Wildlings_ into the city, and smug about it too. He ordered Ser Davos to take them around the city, to the Mud Gate, where ships were waiting to take them straight to Dragonstone, two hundred city guards were to escort them.

"We are honoured," Jon replied calmly, "Over two guards per wildling, nearly three, once you include Prince Gendry's men, that are under the command of Ser Davos, and the Stark soldiers under my command."

Loras snarled at him, but aimed his response at Arya. "So the _bastard_ counts himself amongst the _wildlings_ now?"

Arya shrugged. "Why not? He married one. And they prefer to be called _Freefolk_." She wasn't going to let Loras under her skin, not today.

Loras sneered. "I don't care what they prefer to be called, your bastard brother wants to be one of them, fine. If any of them cause any trouble I'll hold Jon Snow personally accountable."

Jon smiled, Ghost took a couple of steps closer to Loras' horse and the mount reared up, trying to throw Loras. Loras fought and started slamming his heals into the poor horse. "Get your beast under control!" He yelled.

"My _beast_ is fine." Jon replied calmly. "Which is more than I can say for that poor horse of yours. Maybe, if you stopped hurting it, the animal would calm down? We will need about an hour to separate out the craven, since you can't control your horse properly maybe you and your guards should return then?" He then turned his attention to Ser Davos. "Shall we, Ser Davos?"

Davos nodded. "Yes, yes of course, there is much to do." Ser Davos turned his horse and started making his way down the caravan, Jon followed. Ghost lingered for a few more seconded then turned and loped after them.

~~/~~

Arya had given Jon the books to give to Gendry, and done her best to encourage him to tell Gendry his true identity, but she worried. If she couldn't even bring herself to call him Isaeyan in her own head then how could she expect him to accept the name? Isaeyan, his name was Isaeyan… he would always be Jon. She pushed the thoughts aside as they neared the Gods Gate, and brought her horse to a halt, she dismounted and walked down to the cart where Saia, Brienne and Alyssa were. At Arya's request Alyssa had been fed and changed on the trip to the gate. She was five months old and actively crawling now, so Arya had decided that she wasn't going to risk trying to carry the babe on horseback, Alyssa could be quite the squirmer. Saia wordlessly passed the child into Arya's arms and Brienne formed up on Arya's left.

"That's her sword hand, don't block it." Sandor muttered as he formed up on Arya's right. Brienne nodded and took a step further to the left.

Loras rode up then, angry at the delay. "In the name of the Seven, what are you _doing!_ " He demanded.

"What I've been doing since leaving Winterfell." Arya replied calmly. "Showing people Princess Baratheon." With that she started to walk towards the Gods Gate.

It was a long slow walk up to the Red Keep and Arya had to keep swapping which arm Alyssa was in. Both arms were aching by the time they reached King's Square. To her right the Great Sept of Balor sat tall and proud on Visenya's Hill. A monstrous piece of arrogant architecture which contradicted everything that Balor had believed in. To her left Rhaenys' Hill, crowned by the ruins of the Dragonpit, perhaps the biggest mistake the Targaryen's had ever made, and certainly something that Rhaenys herself would never have agreed to. In front of her loomed Aegon's Hill and the Red Keep, high and filled with secrets. Could she really play the games of High Court? Did she have a choice?

She looked down at Alyssa, whom was sleeping soundly despite the thousands of people struggling for a glimpse of her. The child had been thankfully calm most of the way. She touched Alyssa's hair, then her cheek. Arya felt the smile return to her face, to protect Alyssa it was worth it. In a way the child's innocence and vulnerability represented everything that Arya was fighting for. She dropped a gentle kiss on Alyssa's forehead then repositioned her and continued walking. The sun hung low in the sky by the time she reached the gates of the Red Keep, but when she did Renly was standing there waiting. So were Margaery and Lady Olenna! Arya glanced up at Loras and saw a satisfied smirk on his face. She had been placed in a position where she had no choice but to hand Alyssa over.

"Fucken cunt." Sandor hissed. Even without knowing the truth of Alyssa's parentage he could see that Arya had been forced into an unwinnable situation.

There was no escape now, Arya and her forty guards were surrounded, even if you counted in servants, squires and family members her numbers didn't break a hundred. And there was no Jon or Davos to offer softer words, she would have to negotiate this situation herself. She adjusted Alyssa in her arms and her free hand touched the Valyrian keys around her neck, but even that path wasn't an option, she would have to play their game for now… the game of faces.

Renly greeted her warmly, with pretty words that said almost nothing, and meant even less. He stepped forward and opened his arms for Alyssa. Arya thought of the blue rose that Garth had given her, she thought of the seeds, she thought of Melisandre forever entwined with the Elder Tree by the Trident, and she smiled. She handed Alyssa over and watched as Renly made a show of cooing over her before passing her to Margaery. Margaery smiled sweetly and spoke soft words, she spoke of how she had been unwell but she was better now, she thanked Arya for protecting Alyssa. Margaery held the baby in her arms and smiled and posed for the crowd. Well Arya could put in a show too, she hugged Renly tightly and whispered in his ear. "If she harms a hair on Alyssa's head I will kill you." Arya promised.

"She will never be alone with Alyssa." Renly whispered reassuringly, then he led her through the gate. "Come, you must be tired," He declared in a far louder voice. "I've had a tower made ready for your guards. But, as you are soon to wed my nephew, I felt it appropriate to give you half of a level of Maegor's Holdfast for yourself and your closest attendants." He placed an arm around her shoulders and lent in close. "The other half is the nursery." He whispered quietly and gave her a wink. "Olenna's suggestion."

Arya nodded, it was better than she had hoped for, but she still didn't trust Margaery. Her gaze moved to Alyssa and she noticed that Brienne had formed up as close to Margaery as possible, Brienne gave her the slightest of nods. Arya lent in close to Renly. "I would suggest making Ser Brienne the head of Alyssa's personal guard, I do not believe she will be offended by the duties, I've already asked them of her… and, it may help ease tensions between her and Ser Loras."

Renly chuckled. "Oh, I have missed having you around, Arya. The last year has been quite challenging, yet you're not even in the door and you're already helping. I believe you're going to give the small council quite the shake up."

Arya frowned. "I want to take Alyssa to Dragonstone-"

"Yes, yes, of course." Renly agreed. "For _Shireen's_ sake that's the kindest option, but it will have to wait. You've neglected your duties here for over a year, and you've kept my beautiful daughter away from me for almost five months, if you want freedoms in the future you are going to have to accept restraints now. Appearances matter, but you do seem to be learning that. It is good that you are so protective of Gendry's _cousin_ , and that you are so eager to see your betrothed, but he has duties on Dragonstone, and you have duties here."

Arya nodded, what else could she do? Renly seemed to be genuine, but the Tyrell's? She didn't trust them, not one bit. Right now all she could do was put her faith in Brienne and Saia. She insisted that as her first guard Sandor be given quarters near hers, and therefore near to the nursery, but she had nobody else to place in the other empty rooms, she suddenly understood the need for handmaidens and close attendants. But she had nobody to fill these rolls, not here at least. Sandor negotiated the number of Stark guards that would be allowed in Maegor's Holdfast at any one time, he left six guards on her and went to oversee the placing of the rest of the men.

The room itself was overwhelmingly huge, and the details were amazing. There were painted scenes and wall hangings everywhere, the room looked like it had hardly changed in three hundred years. There were elaborate scenes plastered, and then painted and gilded, into the high ceiling of dragons flying over a strange land, Valyria? An artist's impression of it maybe? There were a dozen female servants to greet her. Arya didn't argue as they stripped her armour and clothing from her and lowered her into a hot bath. She didn't complain that she could do it herself as they scrubbed her down and washed her hair, cleaned and trimmed her nails.

In truth her shoulders ached terribly, as did her arms and back. She didn't complain as one of the servants began to massage the tension out of them. For once she was quiet, compliant. She suspected that at least some of them were Tyrell spies, but right now she was too tired to care, let them report back to Olenna what they wished.

Her personal items were yet to be brought up, but the draws were full of gentle gowns and robes in soft silks and satins, Arya didn't complain as a soft yellow night dress was placed over her head, it was only as she noticed the symbol on the silk robe that was placed around her shoulders that she hesitated. She ran her fingers over it, a red sun pierced by a golden spear.

"These are Elia's clothes?" She asked hesitantly. One of the servants, a scared looking little thing, nodded and lowered her gaze. Arya looked around the room with fresh eyes, there was a discoloration on one of the tapestries, a blood stain, about the height of Arya's shoulder, she walked over and touched it with gentle fingers. "This is where Aegon died…" she noticed the knife marks on the wood of the bed then. She knelt beside the bed and touched the marks with the same reverence. "Rhaenys died here, and Elia…" Her eyes moved to the bed. She turned and faced the nervous servants. "Whichever of you are spies for Olenna, please tell her that I accept the room, but that in the morning I will be arranging for anything with a sunspear on it to be returned to House Martell." She smiled. "Now, who do I have to kill to get some food?"

Two of the girls scurried away then, to arrange food for her, and likely report to Olenna, the rest went about removing the bath. When Sandor arrived, with men carrying her things, only two of the servants remained.

Arya smiled at him. "Oh, thank goodness, one thing putting me in Elia's room, but putting me in her clothes as well?" She dropped the silk robe on the bed, ignoring that the guards adverted their gaze, and went straight to one of her boxes, digging out a faded grey robe that hardly fit her anymore. She pulled it around her anyway, running her fingers over the direwolf that he mother had embroidered on it. She moved to another box and opened it carefully, pulling out the blue rose that sat on the top of it. The rose still hadn't faded, and thankfully wasn't crushed. She placed the blue rose in the centre of the large wooden table that took up one corner of the room. "Better." She muttered, then she returned her attention to Sandor. "Are the guards accommodations acceptable?"

Sandor nodded, she gestured him towards a seat at the table and they began to discuss the accommodations, and the condition of the men. When two servants returned with a plate of food and a jug of wine Arya pushed it towards Sandor. "Eat." She commanded.

"Princess, I…" Sandor started to protest.

Arya rolled her eyes. "You will always have a seat at my table." She replied. "Besides, it's rude to refuse a princess, they can bring me something else."

"Yes, your grace, I'll arrange another plate." One of the servants replied.

"Another two plates," Arya corrected. "Sandor eats a lot, and more wine, but water for me." She paused. "In fact, if you can find him a whole chicken…?"

The woman nodded and curtseyed. "I will do my best, your grace." She turned and left.

Sandor studied her carefully. "So, are you really going to sleep in that bed?" he asked, ignoring the three servants and four guards that had remained in the room.

"You mean the bed that your brother likely rapped Elia on?" Arya asked. "Yes, it's just a bed, it's not it's fault what happened on it. Olenna is trying to rattle me, well it isn't going to work." She reached out and touched the stem of the rose. "I brought some peace with me."

~~/~~

Part 60:

Sorting through Elia's things had been emotionally more challenging than Arya had expected it to be, it wasn't just the dresses, there was jewellery, trinkets, lockets… baby clothes… There was a silver handled brush and comb that lived in a specially carved box, an item that looked like it had been passed down for generations. Arya saw little point in sending most of the dresses, so she put them aside instead. Yellow was a colour favoured by House Martell, and many of them might have been good on her, but she refused to wear them without permission, she had consented to the nightgown on the first night simply to stand up to Olenna. Eventually she put together a box of the items she deemed most precious, and any item with a sunspear on it, and sent two guards to hand deliver it. She wrote a note openly inviting any member of House Martell to come look through the other items, and advised she would simply keep them safe for now.

Renly had been flabbergasted when he had discovered that it was Elia's room, he seemed to genuinely have not known, he had offered to give her different quarters but she had refused to move. Elia's room truly was one of the closest to the nursery, and she enjoyed her early morning cuddles with Alyssa too much. Renly had paid the passage for Arya's two guards, and sent two of his own with them as well.

The small council meetings were tedious and painful, Arya's role there undefined, money concerns were often raised but Arya was yet to understand the full extent of them. She was good with numbers, so, after a couple of weeks of talking around the subject, she asked to see the books. That was when she realised just how bad things were… the books were missing! Renly had searched everywhere that he could think of, even sending Tyrion with armed guards to search the whore houses that Littlefinger had owned, but it had yielded nothing.

Arya shook her head in dismay when she heard that. "That's not how to get whores to help you!" She exclaimed. "Tyrion, I thought you were smarter than that!"

"Oh, and how would you have gone about it?!" Tyrion had retorted defensively.

Arya sighed. "Well you've burnt any goodwill now, haven't you? Seriously, sending armed guards to a whore house? That's just asking for trouble. You want answers, send a whore!"

"Let me make sure that I am understanding you, Princess Arya." Maester Pycelle said in that meandering and condescending manner of his. "You want King Renly to ask an illiterate whore to go find the Royal books?"

Arya rolled her eyes. "Of course not, you send a literate one, how would somebody who was illiterate even know if they'd found it?" Her first meeting with Ros suddenly came to mind.

~~/~~

 _"I grew up outside Winterfell." Ros said with a smiling voice. "That's why I recognised you, I've seen you since you were a baby, my lady."_

 _"My lady," Arya muttered. "You're educated?" Ros nodded. "Can you read?"_

 _"Yes, my lady."_

 _Arya thought about that for a moment. "Does Lord Baelish know that you can read?"_

 _The smile seemed to leave Ros' voice. "Yes, he is aware that I can read."_

~~/~~

There was a good chance that Ros would know where the books were. But there were other things that Arya needed to find amongst Lord Baelish's things, things that would require time. She knew that her Aunt Lysa had poisoned Jon Arryn, and that she had done it for Littlefinger, but she had no proof. What else had he been up to? And how had he managed it? Slowly things started to click into place… prostitutes were as important as any other part of a society, Arya had seen the truth of that when she had ridden into Renly's camp near Storm's End. Had Littlefinger's prostitutes also been his spies? Ros would know, and if she didn't know she'd at least be able to find out. As Arya's plan fell into place she stopped tuning out the arguing in the room.

"Even if we did agree to this nonsense, which I strongly advise we do not, who would we ask to do it, Lord Tyrion? Your lover?" Maester Pycelle asked in a condescending tone.

"I don't think Shae…" Tyrion started to reply nervously.

"Not Shae," Arya snapped. "Look, I'll sort it, might take a couple of weeks, and it will cost, but I'll sort it."

Renly seemed intrigued. "What do you think it would cost?" Clearly she was speaking his language, Renly was always happy to reward somebody else for solving his problems for him, that was why he had legitimised Gendry in the first place.

Arya frowned, what would Ros want? She didn't want to be legitimised, Robb had already offered her that… "The woman I have in mind is quiet intelligent." She said quietly. "And she is very capable, also she has previously been in Littlefinger's employ. All of Littlefinger's possessions technically became property of the crown when he passed without an heir, yes?"

Renly nodded. "Yes, I suppose so." He replied hesitantly. "But I assume that somebody has taken over."

"Well then take them back." Arya replied. "Give them to my cousin, Ros Snow of Wintertown, and I'll get your books back."

Tyrion nearly choked on his wine. "Y-your cousin?" He spluttered.

Arya smiled and nodded calmly. "Yes, I'm sure you remember her, red hair, Lannister Lion neckless, funny… She helped me save one of Robert Baratheon's daughters, and helped protect the caravan of the yellow lady. She's currently at Dragonstone, but offer her everything that was Littlefinger's and I'm sure she'll consider helping."

Monford Velaryon looked thoughtful. "I think I've met her." He muttered. "I should have picked that the girl was half Stark, one of Brandon's, yes?"

Arya nodded. "Yes." She agreed. "Father didn't know, Robb offered to legitimise her, but she says if she was meant to be considered a Stark there'd have been a direwolf waiting for her in the snow."

Monford nodded, his expression thoughtful. "This is a very sensitive matter, of course, one that could not be trusted to a raven or a messenger. Princess Arya would have to go there personally and ask her, that is assuming that you are accepting the terms, your grace?"

Renly sighed. "We've gotten nowhere in retrieving the books in the last year, if this works… yes, the terms are fair. If this Ros can retrieve the books the crown will claim back the brothels and give them to her."

"Not just the brothels." Arya insisted. "Everything that was Littlefinger's in King's Landing will be hers, even his apartments in the Red Keep."

"This is ludicrous!" Pycelle exclaimed. Arya ignored him and kept her gaze on Renly.

"You really think she can do it?" Renly asked Arya.

"That, and much more, but we have to give her all the tools. Who knows what Littlefinger was up to? Let her dig, she may just find something very useful. She may even discover who really killed Jon Arryn, I don't believe it was Cersei."

Renly nodded reluctantly. "Anything that could aid relations with the Vale would be useful."

Monford had been watching the exchange quietly, he placed his elbows on the table and clasped his fingers together, resting his chin on them. "Perhaps…" He said slowly. "Perhaps it is too long since I have seen my son? Perhaps I feel like a quick journey home? Dragonstone is not too far out of my way, since Princess Arya is clearly Princess Alyssa's champion it would be logical to allow her to take this opportunity to bring Alyssa to Driftmark, and then Dragonstone, both such mundane trips and beneath troubling yourself and Queen Margaery for." He moved to resting his chin on his thumbs. "Princess Arya could quietly bring Ros back as part of her retinue, it would mean you would have to allow a prostitute to stay in Maegor's holdfast for a time upon her return… but I doubt Princess Arya would hesitate to call her cousin. Let us see just how clever this Ros is, you've ignored Littlefinger's properties for a year, what loss are they?"

"I for one will not stand for this!" Pycelle declared, contradicting himself and rising to his feet. "This is not how we did things when Jaehaerys Targaryen was king!"

"No," Tyrion observed. "He simply forced brother to marry sister, against their will, and burnt most of his family to death trying to hatch dragons. Nothing to criticize there. Not to mention that he wed his own sister, even though he was betrothed to Celia Tully, and she to Luthor Tyrell, and nearly started a minor war in the process. Or maybe he did start a war? It just took a couple of generations to happen."

Pycelle started to go red in the face. "You… you…"

Tyrion took another swig of his wine. "Yes me, what are you so upset about? Worried because Littlefinger supplied most of your whores?" He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Thought you were leaving, well? Off with you then."

"This is outrageous!" Pycelle exclaimed, then started dramatically hobbling out of the room.

"Good riddens." Tyrion muttered and raised his glass. Arya frowned, Margaery didn't like Pycelle either… Tyrion drained his glass and placed it on the table, he flexed his fingers and turned his attention back to Renly. "I think Princess Arya's plan is worth a try, however if we're going to sell it she's going to have to convince Prince Gendry to put whatever this little family spat is behind him and come back to King's Landing with her, at least for a few days. We should do some big event in honour of Alyssa, when Arya returns."

Renly looked slightly pale. "Getting that obvious, is it?"

"To some," Tyrion replied. "But if Arya can get Gendry to pretend for a few days I think we can prevent any major damage."

"Good." Monford declared. "Princess Arya, how long will you need?"

Arya shrugged. "Walk with me, it'll take me maybe five minutes to pack, most of my guards can stay behind, I'll just bring Sandor." She smiled. "After all, I'm in safe company. I'm sure Renly has no qualms sending Brienne with Alyssa, and Saia doesn't own much. We'll be on the water before half the Keep even knows we're gone."

Renly nodded. "Good, the sooner the better."

~~/~~


	13. Chapters 61 - 65

Part 61:

Arya spent a couple of days looking around Driftmark in wonder, there were many interesting items, and the people themselves were even more interesting. Much of Monford's family had the Valyrian silver hair, but then so did many of the servants, it was the most common hair colour on the island, and most people's eyes were colours ranging from sea green to light blue, there was even an older woman with light purple eyes. Arya quickly learnt that the woman was herself a bastard of House Velaryon, Aurane's grandmother, and one of the cooks. The only thing more surprising than the large number of people with silver-gold hair was the extreme lack of females.

"Where are all the women?" She finally asked Monford.

"Ah, the costs of inbreeding." Monford replied sadly. "I am probably related to every person on this little island, in our efforts to keep our silver hair we have all but destroyed ourselves, just like our Targaryen cousins. I had three sisters, two stillborn and the other died within her first year. When my mother was deemed unable to have any more children my father took a number of silver-haired mistresses in hopes of a daughter that could be married to Rhaegar, had Aurane been born a girl father would have lied and claimed the child was legitimate, he might even had done so with Aurane had mother not died before my dear brother was born."

"You're kidding me!" Arya exclaimed.

"Don't look so aghast, Yellow Lady, your own paternal grandparents were first cousins, were they not?" Monford questioned.

Arya shook her head. "I… well yes, but, that's not the same!" She protested.

"Isn't it?" Monford asked dryly. "The Stark's were smarter, they breed out often enough to keep the line strong. Learnt from breeding their stock likely enough, an opportunity my people did not have. But they still wed cousins, niece to uncle… it happened often enough to retain the Stark features, when we marry out we lose everything. That's why you had two sets of grandparents but I only had one, my parents were brother and sister, their parents were aunt and nephew, and so on, and so forth. It helps pass on unique beauty, but any weakness also gets pronounced, and our woman slowly became weaker and weaker. My own wife, gods rest her soul, was related to me thrice over. Monterys and Aurane are our last chances to save our House, both must marry outside of our small Island, but I fear we will lose everything that is us in the act."

Arya nodded thoughtfully. "So you need a strong woman, with Valyrian blood in her veins, to marry your son? Preferably one with dark or black hair, even though it would likely change the face of your family."

Suddenly it seemed as if she had all of Monford's attention, he sat up straighter and looked her in the eye. "You clever girl!" He whispered. "Gods, you are a blessing! I don't really care what my grandchildren look like, but my people do, but if I could get a match between Monterys and Shireen… Alyssa's existence would at least give them hope of a silver haired child!"

Arya blinked. "Wait, what?" She'd only been talking, she hadn't reached any conclusions.

"Shireen is a sweet girl," Monford continued. "Monterys is only a few years younger, but he's young enough that if he started getting to know her now he'd see the beautiful person beneath the scars before he was old enough to care about the scars. We should take him with us to Dragonstone! We – I need to work on building a friendship between them. Why didn't I think of this years ago! I will not force my son into any union he doesn't want, but I can try and guide his choices."

He seemed genuinely excited about the possibility of matching Shireen with his son, and if nobody was to be forced into anything Arya couldn't truly see a problem with it. Houses Velaryon and Baratheon had over 300 years of intermarriage, but none of it was very recent. Besides, Shireen needed some friends closer to her own age. Before Arya really had her head around what had just happened they were on a boat again and heading for Dragonstone, Aurane waving from the docks with an amused smile on his face.

~~/~~

Monterys was a sweet boy, he was a couple of years younger than Bran. He was slender and short with his father's silver hair and sea-green eyes. He had Aurane's smile and a gentle nature, he loved being on the water. He chatted happily to Arya about different types of sails and masts, different types of boat. He talked about the different types of cloud formation and what they meant to sailors, he taught her about different types of waves. He was fascinated by Arryn, and quickly acquired some fish off of the sailors to feed the kestrel.

Arya found herself smiling and laughing in his presence, he reminded her of how Bran had been before the fall. She hoped that nothing so terrible ever happened to him, Monterys quickly became another name on the list of people that Arya needed to protect. She truly had chosen a different path now, a list of people to protect instead of a list of people to kill. However as Dragonstone got closer and closer Arya suddenly felt very nervous. Monford sent Monterys below deck to sort his things and took up the space on the rail beside her.

As they approached the main docks Arya realised that the port, which was on the other side of the island to the main keep, was very busy, bustling even, with many foreign looking ships. "Trade looks good." Arya muttered.

Monford nodded. "Yes," He agreed quietly. "Prince Gendry has taken some advice from Ser Davos that many Lords wouldn't."

"What advice?" Arya asked frowning.

"He has removed the docking fee." Monford replied quietly. "The docks make him no income, but the port town prospers for it."

Arya's frown deepened. "No income at all? But he still has to protect and maintain the docks… guards cost, labourers cost."

"Yes indeed." Monford agreed. "But his own people need less from him if they are making a reasonable living, it's worked in his favour so far. I'd call it a gamble, myself, but it seems to be working."

Arya nodded. "He's helping people to help themselves." She said quietly.

Monford smiled and nodded. "Good, you do understand, as long as he can maintain a balance it is a good approach."

They sailed past the main docks to a small natural harbour, the heads to it were far narrower and high, with defensive structures mounted on the high cliffs. Halfway in on the right there was a jetty with a handful of boats, including a couple of small skiffs, and a path wide enough for a cart and a horse to travel side by side was carved into the rocks. On the left there were large caves that water rushed in and out of, and further in there was a large beach with golden sand, a group of children appeared to be swimming and playing on the beach, most of them with dark hair. In various places there were stairs carved into the rocks, and signs of other caves, but there was no obvious way up to the Keep. Arya had never been here before and it took her breath away.

"Welcome to Dreamers Cove." Monford said quietly. "This is where the Targaryen's first landed." He pointed up at some caves higher in the rocks. "They lived in those caves for many years whilst Dragonstone was being built, some say there are still dragon eggs hidden up there. But Rhaegar and I spent years searching and never found any."

"Rhaegar and you used to play together?" Arya asked, surprised.

Monford nodded, he looked wistful. "A long time ago, back when we both believed my mother would have a daughter that would become his queen. It's hard to believe that I was ever quite so innocent." He did his best to give her a bright smile. "There are secret ways that lead up to the Keep here, and this is how Viserys and Daenerys were snuck out so many years ago."

"It's beautiful." Arya whispered. "But why isn't it guarded?"

Monford chuckled. "Oh, it's guarded, you just can't see them."

As the boat docked and they started to unload Arya noticed that some of the children from the beach had started heading around their way, there were paths, but two of the more adventurous boys were climbing around the rocks, as they got closer Arya recognised them.

"Robar, Lucerys!" she called out at them, laughing. They laughed and waved to her. She slung her bag over her shoulder and took Alyssa from Saia's arms. Before long she was being swarmed by much of the caravan of the Yellow Lady.

Arya couldn't remember exactly how they got from the boat to the Keep, her attention was being pulled in too many directions. There were so many new horses that Robar wanted to tell her about, and Luke wanted to tell her about his sword training. Cade and Aleena wanted to talk about their archery. Elenei feigned disinterest, but couldn't take her eyes off of Alyssa. Gally was eight now, and bursting to talk about her baby sister, Arya… suddenly they were on familiar stairs… and Dragonsteel was flying straight at her!

Gods, he'd grown, he was as big as a small hunting dog now. The other children all drew back, scared of him. Sandor and Brienne both went for their weapons but Arya yelled "No, he's Gendry's." She quickly pushed Alyssa into Brienne's arms and stepped forward, catching Dragonsteel in a hug. He landed his feet on her hips and wrapped his wings around her, chirping and making happy sounds. His tale wrapped around her waist. He bunted his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes and she peppered him with kisses. Monford looked on, amused, as the reactions of Sandor and Brienne moved from fear, to shock, to amazement. Once everybody had calmed down Arya turned towards them. "This is Dragonsteel, your weapons could not have been made without him." She said calmly.

"Now I've seen it all." Sandor muttered. "You and your wild things… I need a drink. You think you could have warned me?"

Arya reached up and stroked Dragonsteel's face, she was about to reply when she heard the sound of running feet, and another set of wings. Suddenly Opal was there, trying to land of Arya's back. Dragonsteel growled and hissed, Arya wrapped her hand around his snout. "No, Opal is allowed hugs too." She growled at him. "Jealously doesn't suit you, Dragonsteel." She kept one hand firmly around his snout and deliberately reached up with her other hand to stroke Opal's face. Opal made a happy humming sound and rested her head on top of Arya's.

" _Now_ I've seen everything." Brienne muttered.

The running feet belonged to Gendry, Derren and Galan, but they all stopped short at the sight of Arya and the dragons.

"I told you she could handle it." Derren muttered as he huffed for breath.

"Why were you running then?" Galan challenged.

Derren shrugged. "Well, I wasn't completely sure, you know how badly they've been fighting lately."

Just then Shireen pushed through them she stopped at the sight of Arya and rested her hands on her knees, puffing. "Opal, stop teasing Dragonsteel, come here." She puffed. Opal obeyed, landing on her hip and nuzzling against the scared side of her face.

Gendry just shook his head and walked up to Arya and Dragonsteel. "You are very naughty." He scolded the dragon. "Come here." Dragonstone growled at him then nuzzled into Arya. Gendry sighed. "Arya, I'm sorry, ever since you left he's been impossible. Maester Pylos thinks he thinks you're his mother."

None of this had gone as expected, Arya was happy that Dragonsteel remembered her, but Arya knew that it was dangerous for Dragonsteel to be disobeying Gendry. She dropped one last kiss on the dragon and let go. "Go back to Gendry." She instructed.

Dragonsteel seemed to understand, he reluctantly let go and flew over to Gendry. Gendry caught him and hugged him tightly. "I know you missed her, I did too, but you really need to listen to me, boy." Dragonsteel nuzzled into him as if apologising and Gendry sighed.

Arya took Alyssa out of Brienne's arms and turned towards Gendry. "I have somebody I want you to meet." She said quietly.

He gave her a sad smile. "It will have to wait, Jon needs to see you."

"Why? What's wrong?" Arya asked suddenly worried.

Gendry shook his head. "Nothing's wrong, he became a father about an hour ago."

Arya's eyes widened. "Girl or boy?" She asked.

Gendry raised an eyebrow. "Go find out, Derren, would you?"

Derren nodded. "This way, Princess Arya."

~~/~~

Part 62:

Arya sighed as she sank into the hot bath, it had been a long day. She had been surprised when Derren had led her to a room in a different part of the Keep, a part that she had never been in before. She had hoped that Gendry would offer Jon a room in the royal apartments, and Jon assured her that Gendry had, but Jon had refused. He wanted to be closer to the Freefolk. The tower was nice enough, and the Caravan of the Yellow Lady had their rooms there too, Ros seemed to be ensuring that everybody's needs were met.

Gendry was making sure that his half brothers and sisters (and their families) were being treated well, he was giving them a chance to actually be _children_ for once. He refused to allow any of them to be servants. Ella was still a tailor, of course, and Mhaegen was still her assistant, but they did it because they wanted to, not because they needed to. Gendry had tried to encourage them to interact with Shireen, but most of them were scared of Opal, and Shireen didn't seem to be truly making the effort either, she was more focused on taking on responsibilities around the Keep, but at least she wasn't shut up in that tower of hers all day.

The poor girl had been isolated for so long that she didn't really know how to interact with other children, she was more accustomed to interacting with adults, or that was Jon's assessment at least. Ella was the only one that might have stood a chance at building a friendship with her. But there was a better chance of getting the waters at Ship-Wreakers Bay to calm, than getting Elenei Waters to admit that she cared for anybody's opinion.

Arya closed her eyes and sank deeper into the bath, letting the heat seep into her bones. Jon was a father, Isaeyan… Isaeyan was a father, and in more ways than one. Ygritte had been asleep when Arya had arrived, Jon had been sitting in a chair, holding the baby in his arms. A blue and white baby dragon curled up on his shoulder. Jon's son was beautiful, his hair was red, but much lighter than his mother's. 'Strawberry blonde' Maester Pylos called it. His eyes were still shut the first time that Arya had held him, but they had opened during the day, they were the strangest, and most beautiful eyes that Arya had ever seen. They were a light grey-blue, but in some lights they almost looked silver, there was something almost unearthly about them.

The strangest thing was that the boy's eyes were nearly identical to Dagrau's. The dragon was long and graceful. From head to tail she was about as long as both of Jon's hands spread, but she was only about three of his fingers wide. Her scales matched her shell, she had four legs, not two, and her wings were far smaller than Dragonsteel's or Opal's. She was not a Valyrian dragon, she was something far older than that. Her wings were almost translucent, blues and whites shimmering across them. She had no spikes at all, and she and a very narrow ridge running from the base of her head to the tip of her tail. God's only knew how and when the egg had ended up at Winterfell!

Arya had spent the rest of the day being pulled in one direction or another, she'd met, and been puked on, by her namesake, baby Arya. Robar had dragged her to see all the new foals and horses, then she'd sparred with Luke. After that she'd practiced archery with Derren, Aleena and Cade, then been dragged aside by Ella to 'discuss' her wardrobe. 'Discuss' translated into being dragooned into committing half of tomorrow to trying on items that Ella had already made for her and being measured up for other items. Arya relented, but only on the condition that Ella became one of her hand maidens. She'd managed to tell Ros that she wanted to have a private conversation with her, but they'd found no privacy and had eventually agreed that it would have to wait.

Arya had gone back to visit Jon and Ygritte after that, Isaeyan and Ygritte. They'd discussed names for the baby, but nothing had been agreed upon. Jon was conflicted, before he'd learnt the truth of his identity he'd thought that if he ever had a son he'd name them Robb, but Robb was named after Robert Baratheon, and Jon couldn't really name his son after the man whom had killed his real father, for similar reasons a dozen Stark names such as Ned and Brandon were out. Arya suggested looking to Targaryen names, such as Aemon, Maekar or Jaehaerys, but Jon wasn't comfortable with the idea. (Especially when he hadn't yet told Gendry his true identity.) Ygritte wanted a Freefolk name, but Jon didn't like anything that she suggested, so for now the silver-eyed baby boy remained unnamed.

Arya'd had supper with Shireen, Opal, Davos, Monford, and Monterys. Gendry and Dragonsteel had been noticeably absent and the conversation had quickly moved to Shireen and Davos' concern over both of them. Yet neither Shireen nor Davos felt that they could speak too freely with the Velaryon's there. Arya had questioned them as to when Dragonsteel had started acting up and was surprised to learn that the trouble had started after Robb's visit.

Shireen believed that when Robb and Grey Wind had arrived Dragonsteel had expected to see Arya soon, but they had left and Arya had never come. Dragonsteel had calmed down after a month or two, but he had become jealously protective of Gendry and had started snapping at Opal. Shireen had moved into the royal apartments, but she moved back to her tower after that. Then Jon had arrived two and a half weeks ago, with another direwolf, and still no Arya.

"What about Gendry?" Arya had asked.

"He's doesn't know what to do." Monford had replied sadly. "About a month after your brother, Robb, left Dragonsteel was wreaking havoc, Gendry called me to Dragonstone. I was quite surprised and delighted to learn of Dragonsteel's existence, and honoured by the trust, but then who else does he have to turn to with a family history of dragon riders? The only advice that I could give him was that some of Dragonsteel's behaviour is a response to Gendry's own emotions. The more Gendry shuts down and represses things the more Dragonsteel is going to act out." Monford had stated with a sigh. "I just wish he would trust me enough to tell me what is eating at him." He reached over and clasped Arya's hand. "That's why I pounced on the first excuse to get you here, maybe he'll talk to you?"

They'd talked about a few other things, but the conversation kept circling around to concerns over Gendry and Dragonsteel. It wasn't until after supper that Arya and Saia had finally settled into their rooms. Shireen had explored the floor, as Arya had asked her to, and even catalogued everything that was in it. She'd gotten beds re-stuffed and arranged new mattresses and linens where required. Arya hadn't been able to hide her smile as Shireen had shown off all that she had done. She'd put all possible weapons into one room, and set up a couple of the smaller rooms for guards or attendants, two of these rooms were given to Sandor and Brienne.

The room at the far end of the hall, the room directly above Gendry's, was an apartment. Three rooms, much like Gendry's. The main room was a little smaller, and so was the bedroom, the study was about the same, and crammed with odds and ends, journals, books, it was one of the few rooms that Shireen hadn't sorted through. There was a distinct difference between Arya's apartment and the one below however. Arya's apartment had a lockable door that connected to the room on its left, and the room on the left had been set up as a nursery. Shireen had even gone so far as to have each of the baby mattresses replaced. Arya could have moved one of the cribs into her room, but she knew she needed to become accustomed to having Alyssa sleep in a different room. It was only once Alyssa and Saia were settled that she had sent for the bath.

A knock on the door pulled Arya from her wandering thoughts. "Hang on a minute." She called out and reluctantly pulled herself out of the hot water. She didn't bother with a towel, simply pulling on a robe instead, the night was warm enough and she didn't care that her robe was sticking to her. Water was streaming down her back as she answered the door, she had it less than half open before Dragonsteel barged through, a slightly embarrassed Gendry behind him. Dragonsteel flew around her, chirped happily, then flew to the bath and started playing in the water.

Gendry took one glance, realised that she was soaking wet, and adverted his gaze, a slow blush spreading across his cheeks. "I'm s-sorry," He stuttered. "I didn't realise you were having a bath. I didn't mean to disturb you." Behind her Dragonsteel clicked and made general happy sounds as he started trying to splash all of the water out of the bath.

Arya laughed. "It looks like Dragonsteel is having a bath now." She replied, she opened the door wider. "Come in."

Gendry's blush deepened and he shook his head, taking a step backwards. "I, ah… no. It's late, I'm sorry..."

Arya groaned. "Gendry, don't be stupid, come in."

Gendry shook his head and started looking at a fixed point on the wall. "Arya," He muttered, in a somewhat flustered voice. "I don't think you realise quite how much you've grown up in the last year… You might as well be naked standing there in that wet robe… could you please… cover yourself?"

Sandor tried and failed to repress a chuckle from his position in the hallway.

Arya's eyes widened and she suddenly found herself blushing, she ran to the large towel that had been left for her and wrapped it around herself over the gown. "Better?" She asked.

"Not really." Gendry muttered, he sighed. "I… I know it's late, but I'm only getting around to having supper now, I'm sorry I was busy earlier. I was wondering if you'd like to join me… once you're dressed. I understand if you're tired, I know it's late… I…"

"Oh for mercy's sakes, save the poor man before he rambles us all to death." Sandor muttered.

Arya glared at him, then smiled at Gendry and nodded. "Just give me a few minutes."

Gendry nodded then clicked his tongue twice. "Dragonsteel." He called. Dragonsteel looked up at him then continued to happily splash water out of the tub.

Sandor peered around the corner to have a look. "I don't think he's going anywhere until every drop of water is out of that tub and on the floor." Sandor observed.

"I'll bring him down with me." Arya promised. Gendry nodded and backed away quickly.

Arya shut the door and went to dry herself and dress. She dried her hair as best she could and ran a comb through it, then she put on a nightgown and a fresh robe. She pulled on some slippers and paused to take one last look at herself in the mirror, the image in the reflection made her stop. Gendry was right, she really had grown into a woman, she had breasts now, although they were still quite small, and curves… she had curves. She looked at how the belt of the robe seemed to accentuate them. She had half a mind to change, to put on a loose top and a pair of pants, but she stopped herself. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I can be a lady when I want to be." She whispered. "I can be as fierce and beautiful as Visenya if I choose." She walked into the main area as confidently as she could and clicked her tongue twice, Dragonsteel flew to her, spraying her with droplets of water and making her laugh. He flew around her happily as she went to join Gendry for a late supper.

~~/~~

Part 63:

"You look tired." Arya observed as she sipped on a cup of Chamomile tea. "You're still not sleeping well, are you?" The truth was that Gendry looked far more than tired, he looked older, and in a bad way, weary. He looked as if he could sleep for a year and still be tired.

"No," Gendry admitted. "Maester Pylos keeps offering me sleeping drafts, but they scare me. If something can force you to sleep… if it can strip your control away like that and leave you vulnerable…" He took a deep breath and shook his head, then he rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry. This," He gestured towards the teapot. "Is supposed to help me relax, but it doesn't."

Arya frowned. "Why drink it then?"

Gendry sighed. "Because it's easier than the arguments about not drinking it."

Arya let her eyes move to the almost full plate. Gendry had picked at a few things, but in truth he hadn't eaten much. "What about the arguments about you not eating?" She asked carefully.

Gendry groaned. "Shireen and I have them almost daily… I do eat, I promise. I snack during the day… but by this time of night…" He shook his head.

Arya nodded and decided to let it go, the not sleeping concerned her more, she'd thought they had fixed that. "Is it the room?" She asked quietly. "Does it make you uncomfortable because it was once Rhaegar's?"

"No," Gendry reassured her. "The room isn't the problem, if it was I'd have moved by now."

Okay, not the room then. "Is it because of A-"

"It's because of lots of things." Gendry replied, cutting her off before she could say Alyssa's name. "I'm drowning." He admitted, looking down at his cup. "I don't know how to run an island, I'm trying, but I'm drowning."

"Monford seems impressed with how you're running the docks." Arya replied.

"Davos' idea." Gendry dismissed, deflecting the compliment. "Davos started trying to get me to delegate things, and I did, but then I didn't trust how the people I was delegating to were doing them… but I couldn't handle everything myself… Then I tried delegating again, and started spending time in the forge with Tobho Mott… but then I realised that I was hiding there, that I was neglecting other duties." He groaned and put his head in his hands. "I just can't seem to find the right balance. And having Ser Davos away for months made it harder, but I didn't trust anybody other than him to go North for me." Arya watched quietly as Gendry pushed the heels of his hands into his forehead. Suddenly he stood up and started to pace. "I'm trying," He muttered. "And I try to sleep, but… How do you sleep when you… when you have…"

Suddenly he slammed his fist into the stone wall, causing Dragonsteel to jump. Dragonsteel flew over to Gendry, seemingly trying to comfort him, but Gendry brushed him away. Rejected, Dragonsteel flew back to Arya and landed on her knee. Arya wrapped her arms around the dragon.

 _"How do you sleep when you… when you have those… things… in your head?"_ The older self asked. Suddenly Arya questioned if she was missing something? She'd seen things, terrible things, seen some pretty things too, as Yoren would say. So had Gendry, but this not sleeping hadn't started until after they'd been at Renly's camp then come to Dragonstone. She caressed Dragonsteel's head as she tried to think it over. Had something else happened? If it had it could only have been Loras, but it just didn't add up. "Gendry," She whispered softly. "Tell me what really happened that night."

"How much has Robb told you?" Gendry asked bitterly. He was on the far side of the room now, leaning against the wall that he had just punched.

Was that it? Was he angry because he thought Robb had broken his trust? "Robb didn't betray you," She said softly. "I pieced it together myself, and Olenna confirmed that Alyssa is yours. Not that she really needed to, it was obvious once I sat and thought about it, and Alyssa has your eyes."

Gendry kept his expression guarded. "And what did you piece together?" He asked carefully.

Arya let her fingers trace Dragonsteel's wings as she tried to work out how to word it. "I… I know that Renly offered you a deal, legitimisation and Dragonstone in return for providing him with an heir. I know that you refused… for you to have trusted them enough to drink with them they must have pretended to accept it." She let her fingers trace down Dragonsteel's back. "I… I guess they got you drunk enough that you weren't capable of refusing…"

"Close." Gendry muttered. "Except that I had less than one cup of wine with them… they drugged me. I… I must have passed out…" He crossed his arms over his chest and started to stare at a point on the floor. "When I woke up the first time… Margaery… she was on top of me… that wasn't so bad I guess… but when I woke up the second time… Renly was unconscious too… and I…" a single tear rolled down his cheek. "Margaery was awake… she was watching… I… I was face down on the floor… naked…" He closed his eyes and more tears rolled down his face.

"Loras?" Arya asked in shock.

Gendry nodded slightly and kept his eyes shut, more tears spilling down his cheeks. "When… when I tried to push him off me… H-he… he held a knife to my throat… he and Margaery reminded me how unimportant I was… that I was just a bastard… that nobody would believe me… he… he told me what he would do to you if I told you. It was only when I promised that I wouldn't that he let me go… I… I got drunk _after_ that."

"That's why you can't sleep, you're afraid that when you wake up…"

"Yes." Gendry agreed softly, he'd opened his eyes again and was watching her, waiting for her reaction.

Arya nodded, she lifted Dragonsteel up carefully and placed him on the couch beside her. The dragon made complaining sounds but she stroked him and encouraged him to stay on the couch. She stood up and dropped a gentle kiss on Dragonsteel's head then approached Gendry slowly. Once she was in front of him she reached up with her left hand and gently brushed away the tears on his cheeks. "Would you like me to kill him?" She asked quietly.

Gendry shook his head. "Not that simple, is it?"

"I could make it look like an accident." Arya replied confidently.

"I'm sure you could," Gendry agreed. "But they'd still suspect you… if they… if something happened to you because of me… how could I live with that? Besides, he's your brother by marriage now."

Arya nodded. "Okay, I won't kill him… for now." She grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the bedroom. "Come on, you need some sleep." But tug as she might Gendry wouldn't move.

"Arya, what are you doing?" He whispered.

"I'm going to stay so you can sleep." Arya replied calmly. "I'm going to make sure that nobody hurts you."

He gave her a sad smile. "That's not appropriate." He whispered.

Arya frowned and looked him in the eye. "Fuck appropriate." She replied. "What Loras did wasn't _appropriate_. You need a good night's sleep, I'll stay tonight, and I'll work out a better plan in the morning." She tugged on his arm again and this time he let her move him. She led him to the bed and got him to lay down on one side, she removed his boots and placed a blanket over him, then she went back and blew out the candles and the lamps, she left the door open for Dragonsteel and laid down on the other side of the bed. Gendry had his back to her, she rubbed it gently until he fell asleep, that she cuddled into him and fell asleep herself.

~~/~~

Part 64:

Arya had never woken up cuddling a dragon before, sometime in the night Dragonsteel must have joined them. He had his head beside hers, on her pillow, and their faces were nearly touching. He'd wedged himself under her armpit, pushing her right arm out so that her hand hung over the edge of the bed. His body was curled into her chest and he'd wrapped his tail around her left leg. Her left arm was wrapped around him and he was covering the arm with his wing. On her other side Gendry was cuddled in behind her, his right arm firmly around her waist and his forehead pressed against the back of her shoulder. Arya was completely pinned, yet she also felt completely safe, it was like being wrapped in a giant hug… but something had woken her.

Moments later Ser Davos entered the room. "Prince Gendry, are you… oh." Davos froze in the doorway, unsure of how to respond to the scene in front of him.

"Shh, let him sleep." Arya whispered, she carefully started to try and untangle her arm from Dragonsteel. "Give me a few minutes." She muttered as Dragonsteel's wing clutched her tighter.

"As you wish, Princess." He replied quietly and disappeared back into the main room. Was that a hint of a smile tugging at his lips?

It did indeed take Arya a few minutes to untangle herself, both Dragonsteel and Gendry kept trying to pull her closer, untangling her leg was the hardest part. Eventually she managed to get Dragonsteel to cuddle into Gendry. Gendry seemed to half wake up. But she told him that she was only going to the other room to talk to Davos, and that seemed to be enough for him to cuddle into Dragonsteel and go back to sleep.

As she entered the main room Davos raised an eyebrow at her. "Good morning, Princess." He said gently as she gestured him to the couches and took a seat herself.

"Good morning, Ser Knight." She replied with a smile.

"Well," He muttered. "You seem in good humour this morning."

Arya shrugged. "I did wake up being cuddled by a dragon." She replied.

"Yes, and a stag." Davos muttered. "Forgive me, Princess Arya, it is not my place to judge-"

"No, it's not." Arya replied, cutting off anything else he might say. "Tell me, Davos, why does Gendry not have guards on his door?"

"He doesn't want them." Davos replied.

Arya sighed. "He may not want them, but he needs them. Gendry is the current heir to the Iron Throne, a person should have to go through half an army to get near the place that he sleeps. From now on there will be three guards in that hallway, day and night, and two at the bottom of the stairs. How can Gendry feel safe enough to sleep here if it's not protected?" She asked quietly. "He could wake up to a knife to his throat or… or anything. And he knows it."

"You think that's why he's not sleeping?" Davos asked, surprised.

"It's… it's part of it." Arya replied carefully. "It's the only part that I can actually fix. At night there will be a forth guard, in this room. Somebody that Gendry trusts, and that is able to be calm around Dragonsteel. They will remain awake, and on duty, in this room all night unless dismissed. If dismissed they will join the other three guards in the hallway. Start by alternating Galan and Derren, and start looking for others, observe how Gendry reacts to any likely candidates by making them one of his close guards during the day."

Davos nodded. "That can be arranged, but he won't like it."

Arya smiled. "Tell him that if he sends them away I'll send all forty of my Stark men to replace them, ask him if he really wants to rob me of my guards?"

"I see," Davos replied. "Is there anything else you require me to argue with him about?"

Arya nodded. "Yes, he needs to stop missing supper. Now, I need you to go through his daily routine with me, I need to work out what can and can't be delegated."

They talked for maybe an hour, and by the time that they were done Arya had much to think on. Gendry was still asleep so Arya asked if Ser Davos would be kind enough to ask Ser Brienne to have Saia bring Alyssa down if she was awake, and to send for some breakfast. She also asked him to invite Princess Shireen and Opal to join them, and invited him to join for breakfast as well. Davos stated to suggest that maybe that wasn't wise, but Arya was insistent. After a few moments of consideration she also instructed him to invite Monford and Monterys, every member of the Caravan of the Yellow Lady, Jon, Ygritte, Ghost, Dagrau, and the baby, and Tobho Mott as well.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Davos muttered.

Arya nodded. "I'm reminding Gendry that he has a family." She replied. "It's time he started looking to that family for support."

~~/~~

Servants had to bring in another table for all of the food, and extra chairs. The room was full of laughing children and talking. Tobho Mott was quiet spoken with a kind face, he seemed very surprised and honoured at the invitation, even if he did mostly stay to the side and watch the commotion with amusement.

Arya had ensured that Ygritte was given one of the best chairs and a small table beside her, she looked tired, but happy. Two year old Albin, one year old baby Arya, and Alyssa were playing in a corner under the watchful eyes of Mary, Saia and Brienne. Ros had already made a joke about all of their names starting with an A. Shireen was staying to the side with Opal, but it didn't take long for Lucerys and Monterys to get the courage to go over and start talking once they realised that Opal loved bacon. Monford and Tobho were both fascinated by Dagrau, and Ghost was getting feed food by everybody.

Gendry came to see what the commotion was and Arya had to fight not to laugh at his bewildered expression. Dragonsteel quickly spied the fruit bowl and flew straight for it, over Gendry's head, grabbing a pear in each claw. He shoved a pear into his mouth and used the free claw to land in the arm of the couch beside Arya. She quickly moved her plate so he could climb onto her lap.

"What the…?" Gendry finally muttered. "Did I wake up in the wrong room?"

Arya lost her composure then and started to laugh. "No," She reassured. "I just thought you needed a reminder that you're not alone. Every person in this room is family to you in one way or another, either by blood or by choice. There is no excuse for you to be taking meals alone, just as there is no excuse for you to be trying to handle everything else alone. Every person in this room is willing to help and support you, you just have to let us."

"Arya's right," Ros replied. "Just tell us what you need…"

Arya cleared her throat. "Actually, I need you in King's Landing, that's what I need to talk to you about."

"Why would you possibly need me?" Ros asked, surprised.

"Littlefinger." Monford replied.

"Littlefinger is dead." Ros snapped.

"Yes, Monford agreed, and nobody has done anything about tidying up his messes, we cannot even find the royal books."

"Oh," Ros replied. "I know exactly where they are."

Arya nodded. "I thought you might… and that you might have some knowledge of some of the things he was up to…"

"Princess Arya has convinced Renly to give you all of Littlefinger's properties at King's Landing, including his rooms in the Red Keep, if you're willing to start sorting through the mess he left behind." Monford added.

"Arya!" Jon asked astonished. "You can't really be asking Ros to run brothels for you!"

"I'm not," Arya replied carefully. "I'm asking her to be my spy master. I know Littlefinger was behind Jon Arryn's murder, but I don't have the proof, I know who killed him and how, but I can't make those accusations without evidence. I don't know what else he was behind, and that scares me!"

"I'll do it." Ros replied. "I'll find every crooked guard, every bribed official, but nobody can know that the information comes from me. This has to look as if it is just naive Princess Arya trying to do right by her whore bastard cousin."

Arya was about to reply when she felt a tiny hand on her foot, Alyssa had crawled over to her. Everybody in the room seemed to freeze as the dragon on Arya's knee looked at the baby at Arya's feet. Alyssa grabbed a firm hold of Arya's robe and tried to pull herself up, he other chubby little hand reaching out to Dragonsteel's claw.

"Ah, Princess Arya…" Brienne said nervously, but Arya remained still and watched as Dragonsteel sniffed Alyssa.

Arya had her hand ready to catch Dragonsteel's mouth if required, but she waited, her other hand patting him. Alyssa patted Dragonsteel's claw then looked up at Arya. "Da!" the baby announced.

"Dragon." Arya said softly.

Alyssa patted Dragonsteel's claw again. "Da!"

Arya smiled. "Yes, da then." She replied.

Alyssa smiled up at Arya and grabbed onto her leg with both hands, then she tried to pull herself upwards, Alyssa had never tried to stand before, suddenly she started to fall backwards, but Dragonsteel lowered his wing, catching her. "Da!" Alyssa announced.

Arya moved her hand under Dragonsteel's wing so that she was supporting Alyssa, Dragonsteel sniffed Alyssa's head then looked up at Arya, almost as if asking a question. "Dragonsteel, this is Alyssa, I love her very much and I need you to help me keep her safe." Arya said quietly.

Dragonsteel bunted the underside of Arya's chin then climbed onto the arm of the couch. Arya reached down and picked up Alyssa, Alyssa grabbed a stray lock of Arya's hair and tugged on it. "Da!" She said happily.

"Da." Arya agreed, then dropped a kiss on Alyssa's forehead. Dragonsteel lent in and Arya dropped a kiss on his head too. Dragonsteel then wedged himself into the gap between Arya and the arm of the couch and rested his chin on her knee.

Alyssa started petting Dragonsteel's head. "Da! Da-da, da!" Alyssa announced.

Arya wrapped one arm around Alyssa and rested the other arm on Dragonsteel, slowly people started talking again, although everybody seemed to still be nervously watching Alyssa and the Dragon. After a few minutes Gendry approached.

"This is just making me too nervous." He muttered.

Arya frowned and tightened her grip around Dragonsteel. "If you try and take Dragonsteel away he'll get jealous, that's not a good idea."

Gendry nodded, his expression serious. "I know." He said quietly, then he reached out his arms to Alyssa. "Da?"

Alyssa giggled. "Da!" She agreed and raised her arms up.

Arya watched the conflicting emotions play across Gendry's face as he picked Alyssa up and held her close. Alyssa babbled and cooed and slobbered kisses on him. Gendry held her for a few minutes then walked over to Brienne. "Promise me that you'll protect her." He said quietly as he handed Alyssa over.

"Yes, my prince." Brienne replied. "Although I'm not sure how long she'll need me, considering she just made friends with a dragon."

~~/~~

Part 65:

Elenei brought breakfast to a close by insisting that Arya needed to try on the clothes that she had made. Arya groaned and rolled her eyes, but she agreed and told Elenei and Mhaegan to meet her in her rooms in about half an hour. Mhaegen and Elenei went to get the clothes and tools that would be needed. Luke's aunt took Berra and Albin, Mary carried baby Arya, and older children started to lead younger children out of the room, as they were leaving Arya asked Ros to stay. Tobho Mott asked Gendry to bring Dragonsteel to the forge for a couple of hours after lunch then excused himself.

Monford asked Gendry's permission to take Monterys to explore Dreamers Cove, and invited Shireen and Opal to join them when Gendry agreed. Saia and Brienne took Alyssa up for a nap… suddenly the only people in the room were Gendry, Ros, Jon, Ygritte, Ser Davos, the baby and Arya.

"Well," Ser Davos muttered. "I best go… see to something… Ah, the guards… yes…"

"Davos, close the door then sit." Arya said quietly. "As Gendry's advisor there is something that you need to be aware of."

"Arya," Jon said quietly.

"Isaeyan," Arya replied. "We're not delaying this conversation any longer."

Davos looked from Arya to Jon then did as Arya asked. "Okay," He looked at Gendry. "What's going on?"

Gendry walked over and sat beside Arya. "Ned Stark never sired a bastard." He said quietly. "Jon… Arya, you say his real name is _Isaeyan_?" Arya nodded. "Isaeyan is my third cousin, and the true Prince of Dragonstone."

"I am not the Prince of Dragonstone." Jon protested.

"But you are Lyanna Stark's son, yes? Rhaegar's son?" Gendry asked.

Jon nodded slowly. "My father lost the war." He said quietly. "House Targaryen no longer holds any claim to the Iron Throne."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Ros muttered. "But even if Rhaegar is your father, you're still a bastard, unless somebody decided to legitimise you there is no claim to stake."

"Ah, yeah, about that… you might want to read the journals of High Septon Maynard." Jon muttered. "He, ah, annulled Rhaegar's marriage to Elia that he could marry Lyanna, although Fa- _Uncle_ , claims it was quite challenging reading, even for him, and he is a very patient man."

"So, what does that mean for Gendry?" Davos asked softly.

"That's what we have to decide." Gendry replied. "At the very least, Arya is right, I need help. I can't run the mines, run the keep, run the port, help at the forge and prepare for the coming winter, not alone. Opal's fire is different to Dragonsteel's, it doesn't seem as hot, we need Dragonsteel for weapons, and for that I need to be there. Perhaps in time Shireen and Opal can share the load, and maybe even Dagrau, If Isaeyan allows it, but right now how many weapons we can make is limited by how much time I can spend there. Isaeyan, Jon, will you help me with the day to day running of things?"

"I'll help with the mines, and Ygritte can help integrate the Freefolk, but do you really want to be giving me any power here? You don't even know me, I… I could take everything from you." Jon muttered.

"Arguably I've taken everything from you." Gendry replied calmly. "Dragonstone should have been your birth right, at the very least help me run it. I need a Steward that I can trust, would you be offended to be offered the role?"

"I… no, I would not be offended." Jon replied, surprised.

Gendry nodded. "Then your first duties are to help me sort through your father's study and see if they hold any information that can help us against the Night King." He said gesturing towards the room.

"No," Ygritte replied. "His first duty is to ask permission for a place to bury our baby's afterbirth."

"You bury the afterbirth?" Davos asked in surprise.

"It's an old Frist Men custom." Ros advised. "Some Northerners still do it. I've heard it said that the afterbirth of centuries of Starks were buried at the Winterfell Weirwood."

"Aegon's Garden." Arya replied. "We could do it after lunch."

~~/~~

The rose bush was exactly where Arya had dreamt it would be, it was larger now than it had been in her dream, and flowering well. The closed buds had more blue in them than the opened flowers, the yellow seemed to spread through each petal as the flowers opened, in some of the over-blossomed flowers the blue had almost turned white. A number of flowers had flowered and died, leaving fleshy pink rose haw (or rose hips) growing in their place. Arryn had flown over to greet her as she had entered the garden, and was currently watching her from a nearby cranberry bush.

Arya allowed her mind to wander for a while, thinking of the many medicinal uses that Maester Lewin had taught her about rose haw. She remembered the taste of the rose jam that the Winterfell kitchens sometimes made, far more tart than the rose jam she'd had at Kings Landing, and the tanginess of the honeyed rose syrup that was sometimes served with pork. She remembered, vaguely, when Jon had been sick with fever all those years ago, that her mother had wanted to treat his fever with rose haw tea (or rosehip tea as mother called it) but had been reluctant to have it made out of Winterfell's blue roses.

No other roses grew at Winterfell and Maester Lewin had claimed that the haw of the wild roses outside of the keep was poisonous, finally she had relented. That had been back in the days when Sansa still played with Arya… Robb, Sansa and Arya had made a game of collecting the haw for Jon's tea. Mother thought her prayers had saved Jon, but it was only after she had started feeding him the tea that he had started to improve.

Absently Arya plucked one of the ripest fruits and pealed it away from the seed pod, the taste was slightly different to the Winterfell roses, she held the seeds in her hand thoughtfully. Part of the reason that winter roses were so hard to grow was because the seeds needed to freeze over winter before they would sprout. She held the seeds in her hand and wondered if she could mimic that? She plucked a leaf off of the bush and wrapped the seeds in it, then she concentrated until the package iced over in her hand, she placed the still frozen package into the opposite pocket to the one that she had the Elder seeds in and moved a small way from the rose bush to find the others.

Ygritte had found the spot that she wanted the afterbirth buried and Jon was digging the hole. Ghost was digging too, although as to if he was helping or hindering… Ygritte held the baby in her arms and Dagrau was curled up on the baby's chest. Gendry, Dragonsteel and Maester Polys were near a cranberry bush, watching, and Dragonsteel occasionally chomped at a few berries. Maester Polys was watching on, he was intrigued with the whole concept of burying the afterbirth.

The spot that Ygritte had chosen was a nice open spot with plenty of sun. Monford and Monterys were also there, as were Shireen and Opal, and every member of the Caravan of the Yellow Lady. Although most of the children were too busy playing to really pay attention to what was going on. The afterbirth was placed in the hole and Ygritte said a few words about giving back to the earth, then each person in turn picked up a handful of dirt and flung it into the hole. Arya went last, but she hesitated when her turn came.

"Ygritte, would you mind if I planted a couple of seeds?" She asked carefully.

"No, not at all." Ygritte replied.

Arya nodded, she pulled the melting package of rose seeds from one pocket and pull out a seed, then she carefully removed one of the Elder seeds from the package in the other pocket. "Garth the Greenhand, I plant these two seeds together, that they might grow together into something beautiful and strong. Please bless this spot of earth." She then placed the ball of earth and seeds into the hole. Jon then shovelled the remaining soil back into the hole.

Arya watched the soil, but nothing seemed to happen, slowly people started to walk away. She sighed, perhaps these seeds would grow normally, or not at all? She had almost convinced herself that when two shoots suddenly emerged from the ground, they twisted together as they grew upwards, everybody turned to watch as the shoots grew into a sapling, and then a full tree. It was an Elder Tree, with a climbing rose spiralling around it's trunk. Over a period of minutes the tree blossomed and the rose vines flowered, but the rose's flowers were different colours, some were light frost blue, some were yellow, and some were a purplish black, like Elderberries.

Arya looked up at the tree in amazement, then slowly she turned to Jon. "I know what to name your son," She whispered. "Eldrick."

~~/~~


	14. Chapters 66 - 70

Part 66:

Arya was acutely aware that she was running out of time, she had boldly claimed that it would only take a couple of weeks to find the royal books, yet a week and a half had passed and she was still at Dragonstone. She knew that technically she should still be allowed two weeks after she returned, but she was also well aware that in leaving so quickly the Tyrell's would feel that she was up to something and would be trying to twist Renly's perception, she needed to get back, and get those books, in two weeks.

It would be so easy to just stay at Dragonstone, to refuse to return to King's Landing, to tell Brienne the truth of Alyssa, and of Jon, and attempt to de-throne Renly. But that would start another war, and the first forty victims would be the Stark guards that Arya had left behind.

On the other hand Gendry was very angry, and rightly so, it had been a few days before Arya had told him about the deal that she had made with Olenna… Gendry had not been pleased. He had refused to give the crown a single diamond, he was willing to _lend money_ , at a lower rate than the Iron Bank, but he had legitimate concerns that the Tyrell's would either flood the market with the diamonds, or keep them for themselves. That and he simply didn't want them to have a single gem. After Gendry had introduced Arya to the Gem Cutter, Inanna Astarte, and the strange foreign woman had explained the diamonds true value and potential, Arya had agreed.

Inanna was a slight woman with waist-long straight black hair and strange narrow hazel eyes, her skin was also strange, seemingly almost a light yellow in colour. Her long black hair was bound in narrow locks, by iron rings, and from the shoulder down a vast array of various gems were attached to the rings. The woman was from Yi-Ti, but had been sold into slavery as a young child and brought to Qohor with the intention of being a sacrifice to the Black Goat. Thankfully a sorcerer had seen her potential and purchased her, as she had originally been intended as a sacrifice she hadn't been tattooed or branded, and her new owner chose to leave her unmarked. He had trained her in some of the most obscure (and almost lost) arts of gem cutting, often getting her to cut gems for magical uses. Although a sorcerer, he was not an inherently bad man, and he had allowed her to earn her freedom.

Inanna believed that there was something inherently magical about the diamonds on Dragonstone, as if dragon's had somehow played some part in the diamonds being formed. Inanna explained that the only other place this side of the Jade Gates that veins of diamonds were known to be found alongside veins of dragon glass (or obsidian) was Old Valyria. Because of Inanna's skills, and the unique nature of the diamonds on Dragonstone, Qohor was their primary market for the gems, and they were receiving a premium price. Allowing diamonds to go to the Iron Bank, or the Tyrell's, could undermine this and leave them without the required funds for winter. But that wasn't their only potential market, Inanna also had impressive skills as a jeweller, including minor metalwork.

Arya discovered with surprise that Shireen and Opal were working with Inanna to rework the scraps of Dragonsteel metal that Tobho deemed unsuitable for weapon making, and the fine diamond chips that were not suitable for the Qohor market, into jewellery, although they had not started to sell any of it yet. Shireen showed Arya a necklace inlayed with a large pinkish diamond, cut like a teardrop, and encrusted with tiny chips of pink, blue, purple and pure white diamonds. It was reminiscent of Opal, and was apparently the first necklace that Inanna and Shireen had worked on together. When Arya asked Shireen why she didn't wear the necklace Shireen just lowered her gaze and mumbled some excuse about it being worth a fortune. Some of the works were amazing, and Inanna believed that there was a large market in Essos for them, but Arya made Inanna promise not to sell the necklace that Shireen and her had first made, that had to go to Shireen.

That night, when Arya and Gendry were sharing a pot of Chamomile tea, Arya discussed the necklace with Gendry, he admitted with embarrassment that he hadn't paid too much attention to what Inanna actually made with the gems, but promised to look into it the next day, he agreed that if the necklace was as described value was irrelevant, it should be Shireen's. By supper the next day Shireen was proudly wearing it.

Gendry was getting accustomed to the guards, he still looked tired, but he did seem to be sleeping better. The Chamomile tea had become a nightly ritual, a quiet time for Arya and Gendry to discuss the day, so it seemed natural to Arya that it was over another pot of tea that she broached the subject that Gendry needed to return to King's Landing with her. They argued about it for a while, Gendry didn't want to leave Dragonsteel behind, but was also afraid of what would happen if he brought him to King's Landing. Arya pointed out that Loras wouldn't dare touch him with a dragon at his side, but the matter remained unresolved and Arya left Gendry's apartments on a bitter note, ignoring the concerned frown from Galan as she sent him into the room. She slept uneasily that night, tossing and turning, she slept so poorly that somebody had to be sent to summon her to breakfast.

She could have simply pulled a robe around her and headed down the stairs, but one glance in the mirror and she decided that Gendry could wait a bit longer. She dressed in one of the new dresses that Elenei had made, an elegant yet simple slip of yellow satin, with a very adult cut and the finest of ornate Myrish lace on the bodice. She took some time with her hair, and even applied some makeup. On a whim she picked up a yellow wrap, and wrapped it around Alyssa, before slowly making her way down to join the others. She had Sandor this morning, and she was thankful that he made no cheeky comment, but simply raised an eyebrow. She wasn't quite sure what she was playing at, but she felt as if she somehow needed to make a point. As she entered Gendry's apartments she felt everybody's eyes on her.

"Finally!" Ella exclaimed. "See, you _are_ beautiful! Although I would have done the hair a little differently."

"Yes, and the makeup needs more practice, but I can help with that." Ross added.

Arya nodded. "Good," She finally understood what her subconscious mind had been up to. "This was a practice run, Ros, will you do my hair and makeup before we get off of the boat at King's Landing?" As she spoke the next words she realised that it was a decision that she had already made, but not been truly aware of. "I'm riding to the Keep in a dress this time, not my armour… on the mare Robar chose for me if that is allowed."

"Oh, not in that dress, you're not." Ella replied. "You'll never get on the horse, I have one half-finished that will be perfect."

Arya nodded. "Can you finish it on the boat? We're leaving today."

"Yes, of course." Ella agreed.

Gendry cleared his throat and Arya met his gaze for the first time since she had entered the room. "Do I get a say in this?' He asked carefully.

"No," Arya replied. "Renly gave me two weeks to retrieve the royal books and that is nearly up, I'm leaving this afternoon, and I'm taking Alyssa, Ros and Elenei with me. It is up to you if you come with me, or leave me to deal with the fall out of you staying here."

"Arya," Jon cautioned, but Arya ignored him.

She took a couple of steps closer to Gendry, Alyssa held carefully in her arms. She was strongly aware that Gendry had been avoiding Alyssa since that first breakfast. "Look at me, Gendry, look at the child in my arms. This child is your blood, and she needs you, she needs you to protect your uncle from his own blindness to the Tyrell's. She needs you to be strong, and brave, and _present_. It's time to stop hiding…" Arya paused. "Shireen, it's time for you to stop hiding also, will you come to King's Landing to help celebrate Alyssa?"

Shireen's hand immediately when to the scars on her face. "I… my scars…"

"Your scars are scars, and a part of you, but they don't decide who you are any more than the dragon at your side. Will you and Opal come to King's Landing with me?"

"I don't think that's a good idea." Jon muttered.

"It's only a bad idea if Gendry, Dragonsteel, and a large number of guards don't come as well." Monford replied. "If they come, and if we do this correctly, it could be the very best thing for House Baratheon since Robert took the Iron Throne. Let us remind people that Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen is not the only person with dragon blood in her veins. It's time some of those gilded carriages you have gathering dust got put to use, Prince Gendry. It's time that the Realm was reminded that House Baratheon is strong in its own right." His gaze moved to Jon and the dragon currently stealing food from his plate. "Unless there is something else that somebody wants to inform me of?"

Arya watched Gendry silently as his gaze moved from Monford, to Jon, Shireen, to Alyssa and herself, than back to Shireen again. "Do you want to go?" He asked Shireen quietly, ignoring the implied questing about Jon being able to hatch a dragon.

"I… I've never left this island." Shireen stuttered, she turned to Sandor. "Do people treat you badly because of your scars?"

Sandor looked at her for a long moment. "Sometimes," He replied eventually. "And I've let myself hide behind that excuse since I was six years old, nobody has ever challenged me on it until Princess Arya. But the truth is only stupid people will judge you by something that you have no control over, and who wants to be around stupid people anyway? I… I'll keep you safe, if anybody is mean to you just tell me."

To Sandor's shook Shireen rushed over and hugged him. "Thank you." She whispered. "Sometimes I feel like a prisoner here." She pulled back, suddenly embarrassed. "I don't have a good enough dress…"

Ella and Mhaegen exchanged a look. "Why don't you show us what you do have?" Mhaegen said quietly. Shireen nodded enthusiastically and started to pull them from the room. "Uh…" Mhaegen muttered, but Mary quickly scooped up Berra and placed her beside Albin.

"Go." Mary reassured. "I'll put her down for a nap with Albin and little Arya."

Mhaegen and Ella allowed Shireen to lead them from the room and discuss dresses, Shireen seemed genuinely excited. Shortly after that much of the Caravan of the Yellow Lady stated to leave, but Robar stayed behind. Tobho Mott excused himself, as did Jon and Ygritte. Jon still muttering that he didn't think it was a good idea, and Ygritte disagreeing.

Robar approached Gendry, seeming nervous. "I have a request, Prince Gendry." The ten year old boy asked carefully.

"Robar, you're my half-brother, there is no need to be so formal." Gendry replied.

"Yes, but you're legitimised, and I'm still a Waters, not that I'm asking to be legitimised… but… I know that you're trying to do right by me, by not letting me work in the stables… But I'm not useful to Renly, he's never going to give me a name or lands, all I have is my skills. And I like the stables… I like the horses… I… I'd like to be permitted to select a number of horses for Princess Arya's household at King's Landing, and I'd like to be responsible for them."

"Are you asking to be my stable master?" Arya asked carefully.

Robar nodded. "Yes, very much."

Arya turned to Gendry. "Well I don't have one, and we both know Robar has a gift when it comes to horses…"

Gendry frowned. "Is this really what you want, Robar?"

Robar nodded. "Yes, and we both know that if I change my mind Arya will allow it."

Gendry seemed conflicted, but finally he nodded. "Monford," He said quietly. "What did you mean when you said I have gilded carriages gathering dust?"

"Targaryen carriages," Monford replied. "They are ornate and beautiful, but Stannis called them excessive and arrogant, he wanted to destroy them but Robert wouldn't allow it, so he locked them away."

"Do you know where?" Gendry asked, Monford nodded. "Would you mind showing Robar so he can work out what horses are needed?"

"Not at all," Monford replied. "But the carriages and the horses will have to be loaded at the main port, not Dreamers Cove." He smiled. "I'll see to the arrangements immediately."

Davos cleared his throat. "I think I might go check on Princess Shireen and see if she needs rescuing." He muttered. He left the room just behind Monford, Monterys and Robar.

Alyssa squirmed and Arya put her down, she immediately started crawling towards Dragonsteel. Sandor raised an eyebrow then cleared his throat. "I'll be outside." He muttered.

Arya suddenly realised that Gendry and her were alone in the room, apart from a baby and a dragon, and she realised that Gendry still hadn't actually answered if he was coming to King's Landing. She walked over to the table and picked at the remnants of the food.

"I saved you some bacon." Gendry muttered, uncovering a covered plate. Arya nodded and picked up the plate, there was some sausage on it too, and a couple of eggs. She found a place to sit at the table and started to butter some cold toast, but she said nothing. "I… I'm, sorry about the argument last night." Gendry muttered.

"No you're not." Arya replied. "You're angry, and you have every right to be. You meant everything that you said, and everything that you said is true, but something you told me over a year ago is also true."

"Oh, and what's that?" Gendry challenged, it was clear by his tone that he was still angry at her.

"It's not about you or me though, is it? It's about the war that's coming, none of them will be prepared, we have to do everything we can to give them a chance. We could be selfish, we could run away, maybe cross the narrow sea, travel the world together… but we'd never forgive ourselves for leaving them all to die." She made herself a bacon sandwich and took a bite.

She watched as Gendry's jaw dropped and he shook his head. "Do you just… memorise everything that comes out of my mouth?" He muttered.

Arya shook her head. "Not exactly, but you're important to me, and your opinions are important to me, especially when you're right and I'm wrong. But right now I'm right and you're wrong. You didn't _see_ Loras when I arrived at King's Landing, you didn't _see_ the joy with which he took Davos and Jon away from me. You didn't see the way Olenna and Margaery ambushed me into handing Alyssa over at the gates of the Red Keep. Olenna put me not just in Elia's room, but in her cloths! If that wasn't a threat… We need to show strength, Gendry… I… I don't understand how Robb could allow the marriage between Loras and Sansa to stand after you told him what Loras did to you but-"

"I didn't tell him." Gendry muttered, "I haven't told that part to anybody but you… and telling you was the hardest thing…"

"Oh… but the way you said it… I thought…" Arya stuttered.

Gendry shook his head. "I… I must have read the raven you sent about a dozen times… and the more I read it the more I convinced myself that you wouldn't feel the same way if you knew the whole truth… that's why I kind of threw it at you… I… I was sure you'd be disgusted… I was sure you wouldn't want to marry a man that had… that had let another man do _that_ to him… I…"

Arya stood up and turned to face him. "Gendry you're an idiot." She muttered and pulled him into a hug.

"Thanks." He muttered against her hair, then he started to cry. "I… I don't want to have to face him. How do I walk in there and pretend he didn't do what he did to me?"

"I… I don't know." Arya replied. "I… I think we need to find a way to show Renly who Loras really is, but Renly loves him… or loves the person that he thinks Loras is. And they have Sansa, and Lady, and four hundred Freefolk… we needed them to take the Freefolk in, but they could use them as hostages… and King's Landing is so dependent on them for food…"

"Fuck." Gendry muttered. "They really do have all of the power."

"They don't have Dragons." Arya whispered quietly. "They don't have diamond mines… Shireen's neckless will make them green with envy. We need to take some of that power back, they don't have power over us… Loras doesn't have power over you."

Gendry pulled back and touched her face gently. "Gods, how did I find you?" He whispered.

"You didn't," Arya replied. "I found you." She thought he was going to say something in reply, but instead he lent close and brushed the gentlest of kisses on her lips.

"I'm glad you did." He whispered, then he lent in and kissed her again, a deeper kiss this time.

Arya felt her lips part of their own accord, every part of her body responding to him, she felt as if she had waited two lifetimes for this kiss. Things might have gone further, but suddenly a loud clunk and a giggle caught their attention, followed by unhappy dragon sounds. "Alyssa, no, let go of Dragonsteel's tail." Arya exclaimed as she rushed to rescue the helpless dragon from the fearless five and a half month old baby. Dragonsteel had knocked over a chair trying to escape.

~~/~~

Part 67:

Things took much longer to arrange than Arya had anticipated, it was mid-afternoon by the time that they were ready to leave. She was in her armour again, both swords and her dagger at her side, and a dragon bone bow on her back, the third one of the three that she had found at Dragonstone. Derren had his dragon bone bow also. All of Gendry's guards had swords made of the new metal. But Arya noticed that the swords of Gendry's closest guards were more decorative, with small chips of yellow diamond and dragon glass inlayed into them.

"New swords?" She asked Derren, raising an eyebrow, she knew he had been wearing a far simpler blade earlier in the day.

Derren nodded. "Prince Gendry and Tobho have been working on them for a while, we've trained with them, but Gendry didn't want to issue them until we had a reason to leave Dragonstone. He knew he would have to return to King's Landing sooner or later, and there seemed little point in them making new blades for the Wall until the first batches were tested."

Arya nodded. "They certainly catch the eye and make a point," She agreed. "How do they handle?"

Derren gave her a broad smile. "Beautifully." He replied. "They look as sweet as a virgin on her wedding day, but when you take them in hand-"

Brienne loudly cleared her throat. "Princess Arya may not wish to hear the end of that analogy." She muttered. "I certainly don't."

Arya frowned, not understanding what Brienne was so upset about. Sandor lent in close and whispered. "It's something about whores, just nod and move on, Princess."

Arya decided to follow Sandor's advice, she nodded and decided to take a closer look at the carriages. They had decided to use two of them, they were far more elegant than the lumbering two-storied wheel houses that King Robert had brought North to Winterfell. The front one was lacquered white, literally gilded with gold, with plush red velvet interiors, even the spokes of the cart wheels were painted white, and vivid depictions of flying dragons in red, gold and black were enamelled along the sides. The back one was lacquered black, with gold gilding and the dragons painted on it were white, green and gold, they literally screamed 'extravagance'. And Robar had found horses to match their beauty. The first cart had two pale horses, both with flaxen tails and manes, one of the horses had grey markings and the other had black markings.

The second cart had dark horses, black bays – mostly black coats, with some dark brown on the muzzles, flanks, and on the insides of where the legs met the body. Both mane and tail were black as midnight on both horses.

"Do you recognise them?" Robar asked as Arya studied the horses.

Arya shook her head. "No."

Robar nodded, he gestured towards the front horses. "Those are the foals from your pale mare." He said quietly.

Arya looked at the mare then back at the other two horses. "Wow." She muttered, then she looked at the back horses again. "And those are the foals of Gendry's black mare?"

"Yes." Robar agreed with a smile.

"They're all beautiful, I'm glad you made the trades." Arya told him. "What horse will Shireen ride?"

Robar shook his head. "She's not quite brave enough to ride in on a horse in front of so many people, not yet, Princess Shireen will be in the black carriage with Opal, the white carriage is for Princess Alyssa and her attendants."

Arya nodded. "I guess that's fair." She agreed.

Ros and Ella arrived shortly after that, both carrying large wooden pails with damp cloths over them and looking as if they were up to mischief, Arya raised a questioning eyebrow and went to lift one of the cloths, but Ros stopped her. "Not now, these are for Kings Landing." Ros advised with a smirk.

Arya shrugged, whatever they were up to they were happy, she stood back and watched as they got a guard to help them lift the pails onto one of the baggage carts. Shireen arrived shortly after that, Ser Davos carrying her luggage for her, she looked nervous. Arya walked over towards her.

"You okay?"

Shireen swallowed and nodded. "I… yes." She replied.

Arya sighed. "Shireen, there are plenty of stupid people in the world, but worse than that, there are plenty of intelligent people, like Theon, whom are simply superficial or ignorant. I'm not going to lie to you, some people are going to be mean to you simply because they can, but you're not alone. Once Gendry and I marry you'll be family, and I already consider you pack, anybody that messes with you messes with me, okay?"

Shireen nodded. "Okay."

"And anybody that messes with Princess Arya is bloody stupid." Ser Davos muttered. "Forgive the swearing, Princess… Princesses."

"I wish you were coming too." Shireen muttered and hugged him.

"So do I," Davos replied. "But Jon needs my help."

Arya heard Gendry and Jon talking as they approached and turned around to tell Gendry that it was about time, but the words caught in her throat and her jaw dropped at the sight of him. Gendry was sporting his Valyrian steel chainmail, but he had a new helm, complete with high black antlers. The antlers were dragon bone, and looked to be made out of the ribs of a small dragon, although it was impossible to tell how the smaller ribs had been joined to the larger ones. In the centre of the antlers there was a small metal dragon, a claw draped lazily around the base of one antler and its tail curled around the base of the other. Two diamonds, almost pure apart from some blue flecks, made up the dragon's eyes. It was a far cry from King Robert's infamous helm.

The helm was accented with yellow diamonds and dragon glass in such a way as to make it look as if the dragon was sitting atop a nest of black and gold treasure, a strong contrast to the Dragonsteel that the helm was made out of. Gendry was clearly taking the Baratheon name very seriously, but also giving a strong nod to his Targaryen heritage… or was it just that the dragon nesting between his stag antlers looked like Dragonsteel?

He also had new gauntlets and grieves, both of which were accented with yellow diamonds and black dragon glass. There was a longsword on his belt, the hilt was carved black dragon bone, just like Rhosyn Melyn, but clearly designed for his larger hand. The cross guard was inlaid with parts of Dragonsteel's shell, and it was set with yellow diamonds and black dragon glass. None of the diamonds were anywhere near as large as the diamonds on Arya's sword, but it was very much the partner to Rhosyn Melyn.

Arya drew her eyes from the sword on Gendry's hip to the Warhammer on his back, she had forgotten how beautiful it was. It had taken her a lot of effort to carry it just a short distance, yet Gendry had it slung from a leather strap as if it was feather-light. The dragon bone handle was broad and long, the dragon that the piece of bone had come from must have been massive, and the Valyrian steel head was a work of skill and art.

"Wow." She muttered when she finally managed to close her mouth and find her voice.

Gendry laughed, the first truly genuine laugh that Arya had heard since she had returned. "You should see the look on your face!" He exclaimed.

Arya smacked him on the shoulder. "Well you could have shown me your new armour sooner!" She gestured to the hammer. "Have you named it yet?"

The smile disappeared from Gendry's lips and his expression became serious. "No, I found it already had a name… Sacrifice." He replied grimly. "Although I can't find much about its history, I found its name in a four hundred year old inventory list."

Arya nodded. "That's rather appropriate." She agreed. "And the sword?"

A slight smirk returned to Gendry's lips. "Promise." He replied.

Arya raised an eyebrow. "Do you actually know how to use it?"

Gendry nodded. "I've been getting lessons, I'm better than average… I promise."

Arya rolled her eyes, Gendry went over to have one last conversation with Davos and Arya turned her attention to Jon, she hugged him tightly. "I guess you're in charge of the place until Gendry gets back," She muttered. "I'll see you as soon as I can, don't let Ygritte boss you around too much, look after Eldrick, and tell him his aunty Arya loves him very much."

Jon hugged her tightly and dropped kiss on her forehead, then he pulled back and rested his hands on her shoulders, his expression serious. "I will, I still don't think this is a very good idea, be careful."

Arya nodded. "You as well… Isaeyan."

Jon pulled a face. "I'm never going to fit that name." He muttered.

Arya gave him a sympathetic smile. "We'll see." She replied and hugged him tightly again.

As Jon pulled back from the second hug Arya noticed him studying her sword belt. "Arya," He said softly as his fingers moved to the handle of Needle. "You do know that this was only intended to be your first sword, right? Perhaps it's time you put it away?"

"But it's from you!" Arya exclaimed.

Jon smiled. "Yes, and I'm telling you that you don't need it anymore. Rhosyn Melyn is a great weapon, but you'll never be great with it until you commit to it. Put Needle away, but promise me that it won't stay away forever, promise me that you will put Needle into somebody else's hands to be their first sword, promise me that Needle will be a blade that teaches young girls to be strong for generations."

"I… Needle's not just a sword Jon, it's… it's home, it's Robb, and Bran… and Rickon…" She felt tears well up in her eyes at the memory of Rickon's death. "It's Mother, even though she was never kind to you, and never wanted me to carry a sword, it's Father… for all her teasing and insults it's even Sansa… it's… Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people… Mikken singing at the forge… Old Nan's stories… It's the summer snows… the Heart Tree… The earthy smell of the glass gardens… I … it's your smile and your hugs when I needed them most and you weren't there…" Arya felt a tear escape down her cheek.

"Oh Arya, that's everything I wanted it to be, but you don't need me to protect you anymore, you're the protector now. I wanted that sword to remind you of how strong you are, but I can see that there are others who need you to do for them what I did for you. To the person you give that sword to it will be _your_ strength, _yours_ smile, _your_ hugs, and when you realise what needs to be done I need you to know that I'm happy about it."

"It will be years before Alyssa needs it." Arya muttered.

"Yes, but perhaps she's not the only Baratheon Princess that needs your strength." Jon replied, his gaze shifting to Shireen.

Arya followed his gaze. "I'll think about it." She said softly.

~~/~~

It was early morning when they reached Driftmark and Monford insisted that they disembark for breakfast, once they had finished eating Aurane advised them that baths had been arranged. As Arya dressed after her bath she thought over the conversation between her and Jon, could she really put Needle away? She put on Rhosyn Melyn and the Valyrian dagger and held Needle in her hands for a long time, but she couldn't bring herself to put the sword Jon had given her in her gear, slowly she buckled it's belt around her. "I'll put it away, Jon," She whispered. "But I'm not ready yet."

Shireen was fascinated by the island, much to Monford's delight, and they ended up staying until lunchtime to allow Monterys to show Shireen some of the sights. Arya suspected that Gendry was intentionally taking his time, but she couldn't blame him for that. Neither Sandor nor Brienne joined them for lunch as Saia wanted to put Alyssa down for a nap and felt it best to do so on the boat. Robar had also requested to stay on the boat, that he might see to the welfare of the horses.

When they sat down for lunch, in a beautiful room overlooking a beach, Arya noticed that Gendry had brought a couple of packages to the table, she watched with curiosity as Gendry and Shireen seemed to have a non-verbal conversation, then suddenly Shireen was standing at the end of the table beside Gendry, both looked oddly nervous.

"Elenei, Ros, I know I should have mentioned this before we left, but there are some items that Shireen and I would like you to work into Arya's outfits if possible." Gendry said nervously. "Arya will of course say that they are impractical, which is why I am asking you, not her." He picked up the first package and handed it to Arya, she unwrapped the cloth carefully. Inside was a decretive hair comb, intricately carved, it was made from a piece of Dragonstone's shell with pieces of Opal's shell inset like gems, it was about the size of the palm of Arya's hand.

"We designed this together almost a year ago, before the diamonds were discovered." Shireen explained. "We wanted you to have a piece of Opal and Dragonstone that was yours, I know how fussy you are about impractical hairstyles, but you could put it at the top of a platted bun or something."

Arya nodded, she ran her fingers over the scales of the shell gently. "I… it's beautiful, of course I'll wear it." She said softly.

Shireen and Gendry both nodded. "Good." Gendry said quietly. "The rest of it is just stuff to piss off the Tyrell's, they're not getting a single one of my diamonds, but I want them dripping off of you. I want diamonds in your hair, around your neck, on your wrists… It's extravagant and childish, I know that, but it doesn't change how I feel. I also want those keys around your neck clear to be seen though. I probably should have asked for advice as to what pieces to choose, but I was in a hurry, so I just grabbed a bunch of items Inanna had already made with yellow diamonds in them, a couple of the pieces Shireen had designed with you in mind, I'm sure but…"

"Gendry, you're rambling." Arya said softly. "Just show us."

Gendry nodded and carefully began to unroll the larger package across the table, Arya, Ros and Ella gasped as one. The necklace caught Arya's attention first, there were over two dozen yellow diamonds of various sizes and cuts, each yellow diamond was set with dozens of small chips of clear white diamonds around it, some of them were round, some of them were oval, some of them were shaped like tear drops. Each gem was expertly cut in the multi-faceted style that Arya had never seen until she had been given Rhosyn Melyn, it made the typical round cut gems look dull and boring. As she picked the necklace up it seemed to glitter and sparkle like it was incrusted with ice. The necklace was heavy, like armour and covered the same space that a gorget would cover, Arya frowned and turned it over. The back was all the Dragonsteel metal and she realised that none of the gaps were large enough for an arrow head or blade to penetrate. "Is it…"

"As effective as any gorget I've ever made, yet nobody would ever suspect." Gendry replied with a smirk. "Inanna was trained in the old Valyrian styles of jewellery making, and Tobho says that for them the line between jewellery and armour was often blurred. Tobho and Inanna actually trained together for a couple of years, you'll see that these two cuff bracelets are also armour."

Arya ran her eyes over the rest of the jewellery, there were a couple of broaches, one of which looked as if it was designed to hold a posy, three decorative hair combs… there were a dozen chains that could be used as bracelets, necklaces, or woven into the hair… "Gendry, this is excessive." She muttered. "There must be hundreds of thousands of gold worth of diamonds here. I… I think you could buy Winterfell with this!"

"I think you could buy the entire North with that." Ros whispered. "Gendry, that's a small treasury! There have to be _millions_ of gold dragons worth of jewellery there, you're insane to walk into Kings Landing with all that!"

"Maybe not." Arya muttered thoughtfully. "You could pay a large portion of the Iron Bank debt with what is on this table, and Olenna claims that House Tyrell can't pay it, if she's telling the truth…"

"Maybe we don't need the Tyrell's as much as they've made Renly believe we do." Monford finished.

Arya let her fingers brush one of the bracelets. "I thought Davos said it was a small diamond vein?" She whispered in awe.

"Yes, well the first one was." Gendry replied. "But there's enough for me to help the North without wanting payment, enough that if we can get through this winter, and defeat the Night King, we could be very comfortable for the rest of our lives. Enough to give all of my brothers and sisters a decent future… enough to give any children that we might have a decent future."

"And you want to drape me in it to show Renly just how little he needs the Tyrells?" Arya asked softly.

Gendry nodded. "Yes."

Arya nodded. "Okay, I'll wear as many diamonds as Ros can find a way to attach to me, not to mentions silk, samite, and anything else that gets the point across. I'll wear chiffon and lace as armour and do my best to be the lady that my mother always wanted me to be, at least for now. We'll find the books, we'll work out how bad things are, then we'll devise a plan to buy the Iron Bank's debt off of the Crown, but I think we need some security."

"What are you suggesting? Storm's End?" Gendry asked.

Arya shook her head. "No, asking for Storm's End would be a bad move, it could be mistaken for a threat. I'm not sure what security we should ask for, but it needs to be something that appears less important than it really is. Something like the ruins of Summerhall, which are still extremely well fortified and strategically placed, but undesirable to most because the main buildings are so badly damaged."

"Hmm, an interesting strategy, but Summerhall could also be perceived as a threat, let me think on it, I might come up with a good suggestion." Monford replied. "Speaking of strategies, both for the war for the dawn and other possible wars to come, there is something that House Velaryon would like to lend to Princess Shireen, a family heirloom of sorts, but a practical gift at the same time." He gave a quick nod and Aurane quickly left the room.

Aurane returned shortly after with what looked like a pair of falconry arm guards, two armoured shoulder plates and a three inch wide chainmail belt chained together, all of it Valyrian steel. "It's called a dragon training mount." Aurane advised. "It will stop Opal from damaging your clothing or accidently hurting you as she grows, Princess Shireen. At Opal's current size it protects the areas that she will want to hold onto when she tries to perch on you, but it also makes perching harder as she gets larger, without injuring you, so that she will naturally learn when she is getting too large to land on you without feeling rejected." His smile was genuine as he presented the unique armour to Shireen.

"I used to wear it and pretend that I had a dragon." Young Monterys said quietly. "But you _do_ have a dragon, so you need it."

"You can borrow it for as long as you need it." Monford added.

"Armour, for me?" Shireen asked in awe.

"Yes." Monford replied softly, then he chuckled. "Won't people be confused when the Yellow Lady is wearing dresses and a daughter of House Baratheon is sporting armour and accompanied by a dragon?"

"Yes," Gendry agreed. "Thank you for this." He had a look at the armour. "Hmm, I see how this works, let's see how it fits." He and Aurane began to help Shireen put it on, it didn't take long. "What do you think?" He asked Shireen softly.

"It feels strange," Shireen said hesitantly. "But I like it, it feels special." She turned to Monford and curtsied. "Thank you Lord Monford, Lord of the Tides," She said formally. "I will treat this gift with respect and return it to you when I no longer have need of it."

Monford laughed. "Oh, sweet girl, you should thank Monterys, it was his suggestion, I had actually forgotten that we owned it."

Arya frowned, Shireen looked every bit the dragon rider in the armour, and she recognised the design from Ayrmidon's Engines of War, but in every sketch that she had copied the armour had been accompanied by a sword. Slowly her fingers moved to the sword belt that held Needle in place. "It's missing something." She whispered as she removed Needle and walked over to Shireen. The entire room remained silent as Arya fastened the sword around Shireen's waist. "You're right handed, yes?" Shireen nodded and Arya put the sword on the left hip. "Guess I'm going to have to teach you how to use this." She muttered.

"Arya, I can't accept this, your brother, Jon, gave it to you." Shireen protested.

Arya took a deep breath and shook her head. "No, my cousin, Isaeyan Targaryen, your third cousin, gave it to me, and he's the one that suggested that it might be time it went to you, this is a first sword, I'm sure Gendry will make your next one once you've mastered it, then Needle can go to Alyssa. But we have to keep Jon's real name a secret or your Uncle Renly might try and have him killed, okay?"

Shireen nodded slowly. "Okay." She agreed.

"So he _is_ Rhaegar's son." Monford whispered softly. "I knew… I discovered that Rhaegar had annulled his marriage to Elia and married Lyanna… my… this does complicate things."

"No, it doesn't." Gendry replied. "Jon and I have discussed it, he is happy to remain Jon Snow for now, and we will do whatever is best for the people. Should his aunt become a problem than we will reveal that his claim is stronger, but he does not desire the Iron Throne any more than I do."

"I see, and will I have a voice in what is best for the people?" Monford asked.

"Yes, your council is always wanted." Gendry replied. "Now you understand why I cringe every time that somebody calls me the Prince of Dragonstone, I know who the real Prince of Dragonstone is."

Monford nodded. "I see, and while we're clarifying matters… Alyssa is _your_ daughter?"

Gendry swallowed thickly and nodded, Arya quickly moved to Gendry's side. "It wasn't his choice, Loras drugged him." She said softly.

"Loras… not Renly." Monford said just as softly.

Arya nodded. "Gendry is never to touch a cup that has been touched by Loras again, I trust you will assist in this?"

Monford looked from Arya to Gendry then back to Arya again and nodded slowly. "I fell that you are both still keeping secrets, but I fear that I do not wish to learn them, as always you both have my full support. I will do my best to run interference between Gendry and Loras in all matters, it is nice to have part of the animosity explained… I… have heard rumours in regards to Loras… unpleasant rumours… you may not be the only person who's cup he has tampered with, Gendry."

"Perhaps I may be able to dig up something in time." Ros suggested, a look of understanding in her eyes. "But that requires us completing the first task of retrieving the royal books, shall we return to the boat?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Monford agreed.

Gendry remained silent, he looked somewhat pale at Monford's words. Arya wondered how long it would take Gendry to come to the conclusion that if he wasn't Loras' only victim his silence may be allowing others to be harmed. She gave his hand a quick squeeze then began to pack the jewellery away.

Arya and Ella were the last two people to leave the room, as Arya was about to exit Ella stopped her. "Are we saying that Margaery and Loras both raped Gendry?" Ella asked softly.

"We're not _saying_ it..." Arya replied quietly.

"But it's true." Ella completed, a look of rage washed across her face. "That explains why he was so different when we found him again… I…" Ella balled her hands up into fists. Suddenly a crack of lightening flashed across the sky, thunder was only seconds behind.

Arya looked out the window. "Where the hells did that storm come from?! We better get to the boat before we're trapped here."

Ella nodded, her fists still clenched. "We'll find a way to hurt the Tyrell's for what they've done to him, nobody hurts my brother and gets away with it." She muttered.

~~/~~

Part 68:

The storm raged on all around the ship yet somehow the ship remained in the eye of the storm's fury, the waves rocked the ship fiercely and the high winds sent the banners of Houses Velaryon, Baratheon, and Stark flapping like crazy, but slowly the storm calmed and they remained safe. Some of the sailors called it a miracle how little damage they had sustained. Some said that the Merling King had protected them, but others pointed out that the wind was not his domain, many reached to green and blue beads and said quiet prayers of thanks. Some pointed out that three of the line of the Storm Kings were on board, but others argued that the Wind Goddess hated them, even though they were her blood. Arya did not correct them in their mistake, she knew Robar and Ella had little interest in being named Baratheon's, but she did consider their point: Five of the line of the Storm Kings were on board, and the storm had seemed to come out of nowhere… was it possible? She sent questioning looks to Ella but got no response.

They had decided to drop anchor after the storm abated and wait for the light of morning to untangle the rigging and navigate the more dangerous entry to the Blackwater Rush, besides Arya's plan of a grand entrance would work better in the morning. But that didn't stop Ros and Ella from waking Arya up at 4am to get to work on her hair and makeup, and Arya still hadn't seen the dress yet. She tried her best not to fidget as Ros and Ella did her and Shireen's hair, Opal curled up asleep between them. Yes, her hair was much longer in this life, having not had to cut it off and pretend to be a boy, but it had never felt so heavy as it did once Ros and Ella had finished. Arya pulled her robe around her and inspected her hair in the mirrors that Ros and Ella held up for her.

The top half of her hair had been pulled back into a pony tail, then half of it had been platted into a thick braid and pinned into a bun with the other half coming out of the middle of it in nine fine braids. The fine braids had then had chains of diamonds attached and been intricately looped and pinned. The dragon shell comb sat proudly at the top of the bun, and two of the three diamond encrusted hair combs had been used on the sides of Arya's hair. The bottom half of her hair had been brushed until it shone and hung loose, it was so long now that Arya could sit on it. The three largest chains of diamonds had been joined together and were laced across the back of the drop of hail in increasingly longer loops. Shireen's hair had been done in a similar, but less complicated, style, just the bun and the drop, the third diamond encrusted comb mounted at the top of Shireen's bun. Ros applied the make up next, then it was time for them to dress.

The first items that Ella brought to Arya were new smallcloths, they were made of silk, soft and small and light. Arya frowned as a strange garment with thin straps was put around her breasts and tied at the back, but Ella informed her that it was a Dornish design, designed to keep the breasts in place so that a restrictive bodice wasn't required in the dress, apparently it was called a bracière.

Then she was presented with a yellow shirt of such fine silk chiffon as to be nearly transparent. The shirt had a low-cut scalloped neckline, trimmed with lace, and sleeves that buttoned just below the elbow, then dropped into a 10 inch daggered cuff of the softest lace that Arya had ever felt. (Ella told her that it was Myrish lace.) The buttons were polished dragon glass and the overall style looked more like something that you would see in Essos than Westeros, and gave the impression of a full daggered sleeve whilst being far more practical. The shirt made Arya both nervous and intrigued, but she put it on without complaining.

Ella then produced a pair of loose fitting yellow charmeuse pants, by now Arya was feeling more reassured, she was confident that when Ella had said 'dress' she had meant the word very loosely. The pants confirmed that Ella was taking strong influence from Esso fashion for this particular outfit. Arya almost laughed as the 'dress' was revealed, it was really more of a sleeveless long-coat or vest. The top of it had half inch wide straps that sat on her shoulders and a v-cut neck line, it overlapped at the front, a thin tie on the inside of the dress holding it in place just above her right hip, the right side then overlapped the left and was held in place by nine ties from bust to mid-thigh, at which point the dress spread away from the front of her legs giving her free movement and revelling the silk pants. Arya frowned, nine ties and nine braids, but when she questioned it Ros replied that the Crown of Winter had nine swords so nine was a Stark number.

There was a complicated pleat at the back of the dress which made it rich and full, and the length was perfect, the dress was made of intricately embroidered yellow samite. A wide belt of black satin was then wrapped twice around Arya's waist and tied on her right side, the excess dropping to her knee.

Arya frowned at the belt. "What's this for?" She asked.

"Your sword belt." Ella replied calmly. "Did you really think I was planning to disarm you? You can use it on any dress."

Arya nodded and put on her sword and dagger, something which she had not expected to be able to do, the black satin really made the weapons stand out. A pair of leather soled black silk slippers were placed on her feet, then it was time for the jewellery, the ship had already started to dock. Arya frowned as the necklace was placed around her neck, it covered the Valyrian steel keys completely.

"Take the keys off." Ros instructed.

Arya's frown deepened. "I… I haven't taken them off since I was given them." She muttered.

"Trust me." Ros replied. "Take them off."

Arya reluctantly removed the keys and handed them to Ros, Ros picked up one of the broaches, the one that looked as if it was designed to hold a posy, and used it to pin the silk cord holding the keys first to the inside and then the outside of Arya's dress, so that the broach sat on Arya's left lapel and the keys dropped down from it, she secured a smaller broach lower on the lapel, creating a loop of the black silk cord and fixing the keys in place so that they didn't swing around too much. Ros then went to one of the pails, the ones that she hadn't let Arya look into two days before. Ros pulled out a half bloomed blue and yellow rose, some elderflower, and some dark green cranberry leaves and quickly bound them with yellow ribbon, making a posy which she inserted into the broach. She then worked some elderflower into Arya's hair, using hair pins to secure it. As Arya put the cuff bracelets on Ros helped Shireen with her armour and Needle than added some elderflowers and cranberry leaves to Shireen's hair. She then pinned a sprig of elderflower to her own hair and some cranberry leaves into Ella's hair.

"Right, are we done?" Arya asked impatiently.

"Yes." Ros replied with a smile. "But let us pack the cart before you go up, I want to be able to appreciate the look on Gendry's face when he sees you."

Arya nodded, she waited impatiently with Shireen and Opal unto Ros gave them permission to go up. Gendry had his back to them when they reached the waiting carts and horses, and was busy talking to Monford, but the conversation seemed to die mid-sentence at their arrival. Gendry turned, froze, then started walking towards Arya so quickly that she wasn't sure what to expect. Then he stopped in front of her, dropped to a knee and took her hand, dropping a kiss on it. "Marry me." He whispered hoarsely.

Arya laughed. "Yes." She replied. "I already agreed to marry you."

He looked up at her, his expression serious. "I mean marry me now, not in a few years' time, I've decided I don't want to wait. I know Renly wants to make our wedding a big event, but why don't we just sneak off and elope? We could do it at Dragonstone, Jon could give you away…"

Arya tugged on Gendry's hand, getting him to stand, then she tiptoed and brushed a light kiss on his lips. "That sounds wonderful," She sighed. "But you know why we can't, I'll marry you soon, I promise."

He nodded and pulled her into a tight hug, the antlers of his helm making him tower above her more than usual. "I don't want to do this." He whispered quietly.

"I know," Arya replied. "But the longer you stay away from King's Landing, the more power you are giving Loras over you. He doesn't have power over you, not anymore, he doesn't get to steal your uncle from you."

"Thank you." Gendry whispered, then he caught her chin and kissed her deeply, not caring that they had an audience. "Okay, let's put on a show."

"I think we just did." Arya muttered with a blush as they made their way over to the horses. Once Arya was on the pale mare Ros and Ella spent about five minutes fussing over how the dress draped on the horse, then worked some roses and elderflower into the horse's mane, but even Arya had to consent that the final result was worth it.

~~/~~

The storm had kept the dragons below deck and Opal was in the black carriage with Shireen, Dragonsteel was perched on Gendry's back, with his tail wrapped around Gendry's waist, and staying so still that he looked to be part of the armour. The black mare seemed surprisingly calm about the dragon's presence as Robar led the horses down the ramp. Eight guards rode ahead of them as they left the ship, then Gendry and Arya, then four more guards, then the white carriage. As the White carriage hit the docks guards began to fan around it, by the time the black carriage had hit the docks they were surrounded by at least two dozen guards. Arya watched as Robar stood aside and let the carriages pass before taking his place on the baggage wagon, she had lost count of the guards by then.

A group of city watch, led by Loras, came to meet them. As Loras approached Dragonsteel extended his wings and flew up into the sky, stretching them for the first time since they had left Driftmark. Horses reared up in terror and Dragonsteel came low again and flew close over the heads of the greeting party. Arya noticed however that all of the horses in their party remained calm. It was like watching Winterfell horses stand firm while other horses panicked around the Direwolves, but Arya couldn't help but wonder if Robar had something to do with it. Dragonsteel flew up again then made a pass straight at Loras, at the last moment Gendry clicked his tongue twice and called Dragonsteel back. "Dragonsteel to me!"

Dragonsteel obeyed, returning to his place on Gendry's back, but by then Loras' horse was already rearing and trying to throw him. Arya urged her horse forward and Gendry kept pace, as they passed close to Loras she smiled at the knight of flowers. "Control you beast." She said calmly, then urged her horse towards the city gates.

The city watch were so flustered that Gendry's entire party had passed through the Mud Gate before they regained control of their horses. Dragonsteel propelled himself into the air again, but he never went far from the caravan of horses and carriages. They could have simply turned right at Fishmonger's Square and gone up River Row, but Arya didn't want any nervous archers on the wall taking a shot at Dragonsteel. They could have gone straight through Fishmonger's Square, part way up Muddy Way, then veered right onto The Hook and to the Red Keep, that was the second most direct route, but Arya had decided against that also.

Instead they veered left at the end of Fishmonger's, taking the Street of Steel up Visenya's Hill, towards the Sept of Balor. They had just passed Tobho Moot's former workshop (now run by one of his Journeymen, and still owned by him) when Loras finally caught up with them. But as soon as Loras came into sight Dragonsteel flew low again and Loras' horse reared up again. As entertaining as it was Arya was starting to worry that Loras would retaliate.

They followed the curving Street of Steel back down Visenya's Hill and then turned right towards King's Square in the very centre of the city. Dragonsteel was flying high above the crowd when Arya saw the arrows three of them… all aimed at Dragonsteel! Before she could even consider her actions she had raised a winter wind to lift the arrows higher and away, but it also disrupted Dragonsteel and she had to raise another wind to guide him back towards her and Gendry, that caused her concentration to falter and the arrows started to fall! Arya could only watch in horror as people started to run screaming from under the falling arrows.

Suddenly Galen and Derren were charging into the crowd, towards the area where the arrows were falling, their shields raised above their heads. Arya raised the wind again and managed to send one arrow into a building, the second arrow clattered against the side of the building and tumbled harmlessly to the ground beside Derren's horse, but Galen caught the thirds arrow in the shoulder. By the time Loras and the city watch appeared Gendry was yelling and demanding that the bowmen, be found and arrested for putting people in danger. Dragonsteel had flown to Arya and was wrapped around her, shaking, his head buried under her hair, she stroked him gently and tried to reassure him.

The bowmen were nowhere to be found, and there was nothing defining about the arrow in Galen's shoulder, things finally settled down and Galen's shoulder was bound to lessen the bleeding, but the arrow was left in place until the wound could be treated properly. Arya finally managed to uncurl Dragonsteel from her and he took a perch on the front of the white carriage, Gendry's guards drawing close around him. Both the group, and the crowd, were more sombre as they made their way towards the Red Keep.

~~/~~

The inner courtyard of the Keep was filled with nobles and servants alike, word of Dragonsteel would have easily reached the Keep before them, but the upset dragon remained on the front of the white carriage. Renly and Margaery were waiting on the main steps to greet them, smiles firmly fixed on their faces, but the smiles didn't quite reach their eyes.

Arya took a deep breath and tried to stick to the plan, she pushed everything else out of her mind and focused on Gendry as he dismounted and made his way to her side. Gendry took her hand, dropped a gentle kiss on the back of it, then reached up and lifted her off of her horse, her arm naturally going around his shoulder as he did so. As he lowered her to the ground Arya found herself almost overwhelmed by the closeness of him. It was silly, she felt as if she was close to swooning like those stupid girls in those stupid songs that Sansa loved, but the intensity with which he was looking at her made the rest of the world fall away for a moment. He lent forward, almost as if to kiss her, and stroked a stray lock of hair way from her face.

He might have kissed her… but Dragonsteel choose that moment to fly over and land on his back. Arya laughed as Dragonsteel lent over Gendry's shoulder, chirping for attention. She reached up and stroked the dragon's face, then dropped a gentle kiss on his head. She looked back to Gendry and saw he was smiling at her, they turned as one towards the carriages, Gendry opened the door to the white carriage and Alyssa was passed out into Arya's waiting arms, Alyssa also reached out and petted Dragonsteel. Then Gendry turned to the back carriage and opened the door for Shireen.

As to if the crowd gasped at Shireen's face, or at Opal, it was hard to say. Opal launched into the air and Dragonsteel followed as the smaller dragon flexed her wings. They flew around each other and tumbled and swooped for about a full minute before returning to their respective humans. Once Opal was on Shireen's back and Dragonsteel was on Gendry's the three turned to approach Renly. Gendry in the middle, Arya on his right, and Shireen on his left.

Gendry stopped a couple of steps below Renly, his expression serious. "Uncle, one of my men is wounded from protecting the crowd, somebody was reckless with a bow."

Renly seemed stunned for a moment then quickly nodded. "Of course… I… we'll get him to a Maester immediately." His gaze searched the closest nobles. "Tyrion, would you be so kind?"

Tyrion nodded and bowed deeply. "Of course, my king," He turned to Gendry. "My prince, where is this brave young man?"

Galen came forward, an odd expression on his face, and Arya noticed a silent exchange pass between him and Gendry. Galen gave a slight nod, as if consenting to something unspoken, and Gendry squared his shoulders. "Tysha's son is here."

Galen bowed to Tyrion and stepped forward. Tyrion's eyes widened than he placed a careful hand on Galen's good arm. "Come lad, this way, let's get that wound looked at."

Once they were gone Gendry returned his attention to Renly. "You haven't met Dragonsteel and Opal yet, have you Uncle?"

Renly shook his head. "No, not yet." He agreed. "Remind me, you found the eggs…"

"Long before we ever met, Uncle, although it never occurred to me that I could hatch one until Shireen hatched the one that I gave her when Theon Greyjoy upset her."

Renly nodded. "Yes, yes, of course." He replied as if he had known about the dragons all along. "But why bring them to King's Landing now?"

Gendry smiled. "Well Alyssa is quite taken with them, and it seemed a hard ask on my new Steward to look after young dragons that I might come to a party, especially considering that he has 100 Freefolk, his direwolf, and his new-born baby boy to worry about on top of the usual duties."

Renly nodded. "Yes… that is a lot to ask."

Gendry smiled. "I'm not particularly worried, Ned Stark taught him well… but would you really want to be chasing after dragons when you have a beautiful baby boy you could be holding?" Gendry seemed to be really rubbing it in that Jon had fathered a son. "Have you broken your fast yet, Uncle? We haven't, and this feels like a discussion better had over food… Opal gets kind of grumpy without her morning bacon."

Renly nodded a little too quickly and smiled a little too brightly. "Yes, yes, of course, how silly of me, you must be starving. Come…" He reached as if to grab Gendry's arm, then hesitated at Dragonsteel and let his hand drop away. "Come," he said brightly. "There is much to discuss." He smiled at Arya. "You're not the only one with a surprise."

~~/~~

Part 69:

Shireen stayed close to Arya as they were quickly ushered through the Keep, Gendry had stepped forward to walk beside Renly, forcing Margery to step to the side. Both dragons clung to their humans as if giving and seeking comfort. They had just exited a flight of stairs, and the smell of food was already wafting their way, when a rush of recognisable grey fur came running towards Arya.

"Lady!" She exclaimed with delight. Lady had grown! Although she had been the smallest of the litter she was almost as big as a pony now.

"Da!" Alyssa exclaimed excitedly. "Da-da!"

Arya laughed, she gave Lady a one armed hug then introduced Alyssa to her. "Lady, this is Princess Alyssa, she was born at Winterfell, so she's pack." Lady sniffed at Alyssa, then Alyssa grabbed a handful of Lady's fur and stated sucking it. Dragonsteel made jealous sounds from his perch on Gendry's hip and Arya turned to scold him. "Dragonsteel, this is Grey Wind's sister, Ghost's sister, be nice." Dragonsteel hopped from Gendry to Arya, forcing her to catch him, and tried to burrow under her hair again, then he turned and sniffed Lady, he tried to lick her, but the direwolf growled.

"Lady, be nice." Sansa's voice said from somewhere behind the direwolf. "Mind you, you can't blame her, she's never met a dragon before."

Arya looked over Lady and nodded at her sister, Sansa's face looked somehow rounder than the last time that Arya had seen her, almost puffy. "Opal and Dragonsteel both know Grey Wind quite well, I think they see direwolves as furry dragons that don't fly." She noticed Shireen struggling to hold onto Opal. "Opal used to climb all over Grey Wind when she was tiny…"

Sansa nodded. "Lady, to me." She said softly, then led Lady over to Shireen and Opal. That was when Arya got her first good look at her sister.

Sansa had put on weight, and not just a little bit, it looked as if she'd had more than one too many lemon cakes. Yes, she was pregnant, about six months if Arya's math was correct, but her bottom had gotten huge! What Arya had initially taken as a calm response to the dragons was simply a resigned one, Sansa looked tired and sad. Arya hesitated for a second then pushed Dragonsteel back into Gendry's arms, she hesitated even longer, then passed Alyssa to Renly. "Does _your_ sister get a hug?" She asked Sansa.

Sansa nodded and pulled Lady away from Opal, Arya tried not to grimace, Sansa still treated Lady like a dog and kept her on a lead. _'Direwolves are not pets._ ' She wanted to say, but the sadness in Sansa's eyes forced Arya to remain silent, maybe she didn't have much choice?

Sansa really looked at Arya for the first time and her eyes widened. "Gods, look at you." She muttered. She gave Arya a lingering hug then pulled back to look her up and down. "You almost look like a proper lady."

"Hardly," Gendry replied with a laugh. "Warrior princess seems more appropriate, but she'll allow herself to be put into dresses, and even suffer sitting for hours to have her hair done, as long as she's allowed a sword on her hip."

"If only I'd realised that was the secret, maybe I'd have relented on the sword years ago?" Another familiar voice said from behind Arya.

"Mother!" Arya exclaimed.

"By the Seven," Catelyn Tully Stark whispered. "Look at you… my wild beauty." She hugged Arya tightly then touched the diamonds at her neck, the silk of her sleeve, the hilt of Rhosyn Melyn. "I was such a fool to try and tame you… can you ever forgive your silly trout of a mother?"

"That depends." Arya replied carefully. "Would you accept me like this if the dress was cotton and there were no diamonds?"

"Oh Arya," Catelyn said sadly. "I only wanted you to be what I thought you needed to be, to be happy and find a good husband."

"I didn't need to be somebody else to find a good husband." Arya replied firmly. "And even if Renly hadn't legitimised Gendry, even if he was just an apprentice living in a shack, I'd still want to marry him. Tell me, would you accept my betrothal if Gendry's name was still Waters and he hadn't hatched a dragon?"

"I… probably not." Her mother admitted. "But that wouldn't have stopped you, would it?"

"No more than Duncan Targaryen could be stopped from choosing Jenny of Oldstones." Arya replied firmly.

Catelyn nodded. "I… Arya, you do know that I love you, yes?" Arya bit her lip and nodded. "I… I know you don't see the world like most people do, but that makes me want to protect you, need to protect you. That's all I've ever tried to do… protect you… I didn't see that I was hurting you."

Arya hugged her mother tightly. "Other people do see the world the same way I do." She said quietly. "Aunt Lyanna saw the world the same way I do… if grandfather had simply allowed her to carry a sword it could have saved a lot of trouble…" Arya swallowed back the potential tears and said the words that had been eating at her heart most of her life. "All I've ever wanted was for you to accept me for me." She whispered.

"I'm trying." Catelyn whispered in reply. "But you don't always make it easy. Even when I fail, remember that I love you."

~~/~~

As Arya watched Renly she was again reminded of why she had thought he would be a good king. Between Shireen's unexpected presence and the dragons they had thrown a lot at him, yet he kept the conversation light and a smile in place. Yes, he was nervous every time that the dragons got close to him, but he was just as weary of Lady, and they were dragons after all. Renly remained polite and charming throughout breakfast and approached serious matters with an apparent lightness that belied the calculated manner in which he voiced them. Renly was very, very skilled at keeping up appearances.

Margaery remained quiet and submissive, she held Alyssa gently for a short time, but Alyssa didn't want to stay still, she wanted to play with Dragonsteel. Margaery, Sansa and mother watched in amazement at how gentle Dragonsteel was with her.

"Seven hells," Renly muttered. "That's beautiful and terrifying at the same time."

"Yes," Gendry agreed. "I think my heart stopped the first time she decided to put her hand in his mouth… but I guess he picked up on Arya's love for her."

Sansa frowned. "Wait, is he your dragon or Arya's?"

Gendry shrugged. "I was the one holding him when he hatched… but Arya was there, and I don't actually think I could have done it without her. Maester Pylos believes that I will be his rider, but that he sees Arya as his mother."

Renly shook his head in amusement. "Not even married yet, and you're already adopting a dragon together… grandmother Rhaelle would have been proud."

Gendry shrugged and matched Renly's smile, yet there was a hint of challenge in his eyes. "Great grandmother Rhaelle is central to your claim on the throne, Uncle."

"Yes, yes, such serious talk." Renly waved him off. "But let us save serious talk for the small council meeting this afternoon… 2 o'clock sounds good… as my heir I assume you will be attending?"

"Yes, of course." Gendry agreed.

Renly smiled. "Good, now let's talk about the celebration, Alyssa is almost six months old, so we'll call it a celebration of her six month birthday, but this is truly an opportunity for us to show our strength, can I rely on you and Shireen to keep your dragons in line?"

Gendry gave Renly a long hard look. "That depends on Loras." He said coldly. "Keep him away from me and there shouldn't be any problems."

Renly nodded, his expression sad. "I really don't understand the enmity between you two." He said quietly.

Arya reached out and took Gendry's hand, squeezing it tightly. She wanted to tell Renly exactly why, to lay the truth of what Loras had done to Gendry, and of their suspicion that he had done it to others, bare at Renly's feet. She wanted to yell, and scream and make demands… but the presence of her sad, pregnant, sister stopped her. Perhaps it was not quite so secret what type of man Loras was? Arya's gaze moved over to her mother and she finally found a safe answer to the question. "Loras has made it very clear that he will always see, and treat, Gendry as a bastard." She said softly. "Maybe Loras thinks he is protecting you, after all, we all know that the moment you legitimised Gendry his claim to the Iron Throne technically became better than yours."

The room became suddenly quiet, but Renly looked thoughtful rather than threatened, he turned his attention to Gendry. "She really is quite marvels, isn't she? Who else could sit there and say 'my future husband could take everything from you if he wanted to' so calmly? She's not even trying to make a threat."

"Arya doesn't need to make threats." Gendry replied calmly. "She's already made herself abundantly clear, be a good king and you have her backing, and mine." He gave Arya's hand a tight squeeze then let go and moved to his feet. "I think I'd like to show Shireen her room now, she can have one of the ones you have allocated to Arya, I'll take one on the same floor as well so that we can keep the dragons together, there are only so many guards that are trained to be calm around them."

Renly stood and nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. Until 2 o'clock then."

Arya nodded and picked up Alyssa. "Alyssa needs a feed and a nap, I'll take her to Saia." She gave Lady one last pat then turned to leave the room.

"Oh, one last thing, Princess Arya," Renly said almost absentmindedly. "Prince Doran Martell accepted your invention, he arrived in the city a couple of days ago, shall I send a messenger to say that you will see him?"

Arya nodded. "Of course." She agreed.

~~/~~

Part 70:

The 'Godswood' at Kings Landing was not so much a wood as a planned and planted garden that had then been left to go wild. True Godswoods were part of the old forest that had been sectioned off and protected, but the old forest had long gone by the time the Red Keep was built. The Godswood held no Weirwoods, but an old Oak, with a carved face, sat proudly near its centre. It was a nice place, overlooking the Blackwater Rush, and wildflowers and other 'weeds' had been allowed to grow relatively freely there in the last 350 years. The place didn't have the power of the Winterfell Godswood, and it lacked the feel of Aegon's Garden, but Arya still felt that she could feel the Old Gods there… and she was sure that Gareth the Greenhand had planted a seed or two in his time.

Either way, it was the place that Arya had chosen for her first meeting with Doran. She was aware that he suffered from gout, but did not know how bad his condition was, and had decided that the outside meeting place would make things easier on everybody. It was late morning when the Prince of Dorne arrived, carried by four men in a large palanquin, seated on a wheeled chair. He had a blanket covering much of him, the hands that rested on it were red and swollen. He was in his early fifties, but looked much older, he greeted her with a small smile, but his expression was otherwise guarded.

A large guard, bearing a huge axe, with a shaft at least six feet long, stood beside him, a young man with dark curly hair walked behind the palanquin, but it was the young woman beside the young man that's presence surprised Arya. Myrcella! She had gotten taller, and had grown into quite the beauty, she was dressed in a Dornish fashion and seemed quite comfortable beside the young man. All three were dressed in various shades of yellow. Once the palanquin came to a rest the young man and Myrcella steeped up beside it, still staying further back that Doran.

The only guard that Arya had with her was Sandor, she had left some of her guards with Shireen and had others stationed with Alyssa or on her actual rooms, but if Doran chose to raise a confrontation with Sandor it would be easier to stop if she didn't have any other guards with her. She could feel Sandor squaring off with the man holding the axe and intentionally stepped between them. "Prince Doran Nymeros Martell," She greeted formally. "Thank you for accepting my invitation."

"Thank you for giving it, Lady Arya." Doran replied.

Arya felt Sandor move behind her and raised a hand before he spoke, she gave Doran a genuine smile. "If that is my que to correct you that I am legally a princess now, you'll be disappointed to discover that I prefer to judge people on their actions, not their birth rights." She replied calmly. "You could honestly call me Underfoot for all I care."

"Underfoot?" Doran replied with an intrigued edge to his voice. "That's an interesting choice."

Arya shrugged. "Fat Tom gave me the name, because he said that's where I always was, once Vayon Poole, our Steward, picked it up many people followed. But most of the people that called me that came to King's Landing when Father was made Hand. Cersei saw to it that most of them are dead now." She let her gaze move to Myrcella and then to Sandor. "A good thing that neither of us are stupid enough to blame daughters, or brothers, for the actions of their family members." She turned her attention to Myrcella. "I'm glad things worked out well for you."

Myrcella nodded. "I'm told I owe a lot of that to you." She said quietly. "Uncle Tyrion says you were quite insistent on having Tommen and I legitimised as Lannister's, thank you."

Arya frowned. "Thank you? I put an arrow in Joffrey personally, and played a large role in your mother's death, you should be screaming at me how much you hate me, not thanking me."

Myrcella looked at her for a long moment, then looked to Doran as if for permission, Doran gave a slight nod and Myrcella stepped forward. "Arya I… I know what Joffrey was, I suffered more of his cruelty than you did… not as bad as Tommen suffered… but I know. As for my mother… I… she loved me very much, and I loved her… but… I know she had her faults. I miss her… and I miss Uncle Jamie… Father, I guess I should call him now… but I understand. War causes terrible things… That you had the compassion… that it even occurred to you to ask that Tommen and I not be tarred as 'Waters'… we could have both been cast out onto the streets as bastards, or even murdered for it… I… I was sent to Dorne as a Baratheon and betrothed to Trystane…" Her voice faltered and she looked towards the young man, confirming that he was Prince Trystane Martell, Doran's son.

He stepped up beside her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "Myrcella and I had become quite fond of each other by the time the truth of her parentage was brought to light." He said softly. "By having her legitimised as a Lannister, and encouraging King Renly to send an envoy to negotiate for her safety, you created a situation in which we were able to remain betrothed." Trystane allowed his hand to slip down to Myrcella's and laced their fingers together. "For that, we are both very thankful."

Arya nodded. She let her attention shift back to Doran and frowned. "There are many steps between hear and Maegor's Holdfast… I…"

"They are wide steps, Princess." Sandor interjected. "If the one with the axe is happy to take the back of the palanquin I'll take the front." Doran gave a nod of consent and Sandor walked up, positioned himself between the front two handles, and waited.

"Ready." The other man said once he was in position.

"Lift on one." Sandor instructed. "Three, two, one." The two large men lifted the palanquin easily, as if they were carrying a child.

~~/~~

Balerion was there to greet them when they entered the room, Myrcella reacted with surprise when the 'bad cat' let Arya pat it, and was even more shocked to learn that the cat had been Rhaenys' kitten. (Arya did not mention anything of Rhaenys herself being inside the cat.) Doran looked at the old cat in wonder as it jumped onto his knee and slowly began to purr.

The room was filled with vases of roses, elderflower, and cranberry leaves from Aegon's Garden at Dragonstone, and there was a large bowl of cranberry's in the middle of the table, beside the blue Winterfell rose. Some vases had the roses from the elder tree, light frost blue, yellow, and purplish black. Other vases had the blue edged yellow roses… or yellow wild roses. Heads of elderflower had even been carefully strung to the bed posts in such a way that they would dry while filling the room with a lovely sent. All in all it was clear that Ros and Ella had been very busy. There was also a large bowl of apples and pears on the table.

Doran had brought gifts of blood oranges, lemons, and cherries, he had also taken the liberty of bringing his own nettle tea with him. Arya sent two of the Stark guards that were guarding the room for a pot of hot water, a pitcher of cold water, cups, and some honey. When the guards returned with the requested items she added lemons to the cold water, then dissolved a little honey with some of the hot water and added that as well, before making the rest of the hot water nettle tea. Doran watching her thoughtfully all the while. "Most people would have a servant do that." He finally commented.

"Valar Dohaeris." Arya replied with a shrug. "You are my guests. This is not my house, so I cannot offer you guest right, but I can do my best to keep you safe."

Doran frowned. "You think somebody would try and poison me?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

Arya shrugged. "I think somebody might try and make it look like _I_ tried to poison you."

"And whom would you suspect of that?" Doran asked.

Arya shrugged. "It is within the reach of many to consider." She replied carefully.

"Yes, well within the _Reach_." Doran agreed.

It was strange sitting in the room that Elia and her children had died in and talking to her brother. But it must have been stranger still for Myrcella to be back inside the Red Keep. They talked, Arya showed them through what remained of Elia's belongings, and Doran asked if any of her things had been found at Dragonstone. Arya didn't know the answer so she sent for the people that might, Gendry and Shireen. Ella and the dragons arrived with them.

The guard with the axe, Areo Hotah, became defensive at the presence of the dragons, but Doran was fascinated by them, especially when Dragonsteel started sniffing at the cherries. Dragonsteel nudged the bowl with his snout, causing a couple to dislodge, then ate them. He rolled the stones around in his mouth for a while then spat one at Gendry's chest, causing everybody but Gendry to laugh. He then stole half a bowl of cherries in one mouthful, and started playfully spitting the stones at people. Ella dived in front of Arya at that point, exclaiming that she had only just finished making the dress and it didn't need cherry stains. Gendry grabbed a handful of cranberries and started to lure Dragonsteel away from the cherries.

"Come on, greedy guts." He muttered. "Leave some for everybody else."

The commotion was enough to cause Saia and Alyssa to come investigate, and soon Alyssa and Dragonsteel were scrambling around on the bed after each other. The situation was so hilarious that even Doran was laughing so hard that there were tears in his eyes. Eventually Dragonsteel let Alyssa catch him and she pulled his tail, then started sucking on it.

"My gosh!" Doran exclaimed, wiping a tear from his eye. "She's actually pulling on the dragon's tail!"

Gendry shrugged as Dragonsteel settled down on the bed and pretended to ignore Alyssa. "Dragonsteel would never hurt her." He replied calmly.

Doran looked around the room, then his hand reached to the blue rose on the table, he picked it up and examined it thoughtfully then put it down. "Elia would have loved this," He said softly. "Thank you, Princess Arya, you've brought the joy back to this room."

~~/~~


	15. Chapters 71 - 75

Part 71:

The Small Council meeting was long and tedious, Gregor Clegane was still under siege, the Crown still didn't know how much debt it was in, and Renly wanted a big party to celebrate Alyssa. Arya found the last two matters very contradictory, and said as much, but Renly was very big on keeping up appearances, besides, apparently House Tyrell were footing half of the bill. Plans were laid out for a week of feasting and tournaments, much like the Tournament of the Hand, but with a big party on the final night for the high nobility inside the Red Keep. Arya, remembering how stressed the last tournament had made her father, felt rather uneasy about the whole thing.

Renly also brought up Arya's engagement to Gendry, and wanted to set a date. Arya argued that she didn't see how it was council business… but apparently she was wrong in that. Arya finally bought some time by pointing out that there were non-council members, such as her mother, who needed to be talked to before the matter could be tabled at Small Council.

"Fair enough," Renly agreed pleasantly, then he laughed. "I guess we'll have to start looking for a suitable betrothal for Shireen as well. Poor ugly girl, I never really much thought of her marrying, what with her… condition, but her dragon changes everything."

"Opal changes nothing." Arya snapped. She was angry, Renly was Shireen's uncle, her blood! How could he be so cruel?! The next words were out of Arya's mouth before she truly thought about the consequences. "Besides, a suitable match has already been found for her, one that doesn't care about her scars."

Renly raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh, really? Whom?"

"Monterys Velaryon." Monford replied calmly.

"And what makes you think I'll just hand over a dragon to your House, Monford?" Renly asked, a hint of danger in his tone.

"Well firstly, if you actually took the time to get to know Shireen at all, you'd know you weren't handing over anything. And secondly, we're prepared for dragons, we've had them before. Thirdly, Monterys is a few years younger than Shireen, agreeing to the betrothal now keeps others from trying to use Shireen as a tool to get to Opal, and allows the two time to build trust and a friendship… they won't be marrying for at least six to eight years, if you still question my house's loyalty to the crown then, you can always overturn the betrothal… you _are_ the King."

Renly seemed momentarily stunned by Monford's reply, then he gave a rather slow blink and nodded. "Yes, I am the King, although sometimes it feels like some of you want to make Arya your Queen." Renly replied holding Monford's gaze.

"Oh, I'd love to," Monford replied calmly. "But she's already declined, just as Gendry has declined being made King. Whatever designs you think they have on the Iron Throne, you're wrong, they'd sooner place a Targaryen on it than take it for themselves… They're far more interested in peace and planting trees. Now, if we've finished discussing the festivities to show off Princess Alyssa, I think we're done for the day."

"Not quite." Renly responded. "It seems that a representative from the Iron Bank has been sent over to discuss the Crown's debt. A little _inconvenient_ considering we don't have the books yet," He turned his attention to Arya. "But then I guess we can just pay the debt with diamonds."

"Actually, no we can't." Arya replied. "Our relationship with the Qohor market is very fragile, to sell to any other party would devalue the diamonds greatly. They're not ordinary diamonds, you see… Inanna would explain it better, but the Sorcerers of Qohor seem to think they have magical properties."

"And you actually believe that?" Renly challenged.

Arya shrugged. "I don't have to, their gold is real enough, which is why Gendry is willing to _lend_ gold to the Crown to cover the debt, at a lower interest rate than the Iron Bank is charging."

"Lend… _Lend?!_ " Renly spluttered. The friendly façade finally cracked and his face crumpled into rage. "I _made_ him!" He declared slamming a fist into the desk. "I _legitimised_ him! I _gave_ him Dragonstone!"

Arya rose to her feet. "Oh no, he paid for it well enough! Shall we tell the rest of the room what it cost him?! Shall we tell the Maesters in Oldtown?! All the diamonds in the world can't replace what you've taken from him!"

"Tell the Maesters what?!" Pycelle snapped.

Arya ignored Pycelle and held Renly's gaze. Renly met her gaze a little longer, then he closed his eyes, sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes again the friendly mask was back in place, but the illusion was broken now, Arya finally saw that the gentle smile and friendly demeanour was simply a guise. "Forgive me, Yellow Lady," He said in that gentle tone of his. "It has been a long day, and the dragons were quite a shock… I… perhaps we should call it for the day."

"Perhaps we shouldn't." Arya challenged, resting her hands flat on the council desk. "If my pending nuptials are Small Council business, then it is also their concern that you have been incapable of consummating your marriage, and instead forced Gendry into doing so on your behalf… even going so far as to let Loras drug Gendry when he refused. Your marriage can easily be annulled, and since the Tyrell's claim that they cannot service the Iron Bank debt, they are perhaps not as valuable to you as you originally thought." She was shaking with rage now, she knew she should have held back, but she couldn't.

Maester Pycelle suddenly pushed himself to his feet, his movements surprisingly fast and agile. "Outrageous, simply outrageous! H-how dare you make such accusations?!" He stammered. "Aerys would have had you burnt alive for such things, and rightly so…"

They say rage is a hot thing, but for Arya that had never been true… every Northerner knows that nothing burns like the cold… she felt the winter winds rising within her, and then around her… she watched as the lanterns flickered and felt the hardwood of the desk suddenly chilling under her palms. "Unlike my grandfather, I would have been able to fight the champion of House Targaryen." She replied.

She concentrated on the end of Pycelle's beard and watched as icicles started to form on it. She had never done this so easily without her armour on, but then she _was_ wearing armour… she was suddenly aware of the carefully crafted, diamond encrusted, gorget around her neck… she was aware of the diamond and Dragonsteel cuffs around her wrists, of the small blue and green beads lightly pressing into her skin under her right cuff… Ice started to spread out from her hands on the desk, the glass decanter holding Tyrion's wine froze over and shattered, the half frozen Dornish Red looking more like blood than wine as it spilled… Ice began to accumulate on the stone walls…

"Wh-what witchcraft is this?!" Pycelle demanded.

"You have a Valyrian Steel link on your chain," Arya replied calmly. "You tell me, are the Sorcerers of Qohor correct?" She let the winds drop and walked out of the room.

She didn't recall her passage from the Small Council chambers back to Maegor's Holdfast, nor could she recall which four guards walked with her… she didn't remember climbing the steps or entering the hallway. As she closed the door to her room she noticed that her hand was shaking, and her arm… she was suddenly aware that her whole body was shaking… she got a few steps into the room… and then the world turned black.

~~/~~

Part 72:

Somebody was shaking her… "Arya, Arya, please, wake up." A female pleaded, the concern clear in her voice.

She was lying on the floor, how had she gotten there? Her finger's curled into the soft carpet beneath her and she looked up, but her eyes wouldn't focus. She frowned, blinked, and tried again. Red hair… she knew this face… _Rose of Red Lake…_ no… not Rose… Ros… she couldn't think straight… "Gendry…" She muttered and let her eyes close again.

"Get Gendry now!" The female voice yelled, there was the sound of movement and a door opening and shutting, then Ros was sitting beside her on the ground, stroking her hair. "Arya, did somebody hurt you?" Ros asked.

"No…" Arya muttered. "I… tired." She breathed in the scent of roses and tried to remember what had happened. The perfume Ros wore smelt like roses, why had she never noticed that before? Suddenly Gendry was there, she knew it was him without opening her eyes, her mind seemed to clear a little as he gently caressed her cheek. He scooped her up in his arms and started carrying her across the room. She buried her face into his neck, taking in the fragrance that was uniquely him, she was aware of Dragonsteel as well, but she focused on Gendry.

"Arya, what happened?" Gendry asked softly. "What did you do?"

"I…" What had she done? "I got angry." She whispered, trying to snuggle closer to him. "I…" She could feel the wetness of tears on her cheeks. Gendry placed her on something soft and she was suddenly aware of the fragrance of elderflower, but as he moved to pull away she clung to him tightly. "I'm sorry, Gendry, I'm so sorry… we should have gone to Dorne, but I delayed, I was scared to fail… if we'd never gone to Storm's End… it's my fault, all the hurt that happened to you, it's all my fault."

"Shh," He whispered, stroking her hair. "Shh, other people's choices are not your fault. If we hadn't gone to Renly's camp he'd be dead, and we wouldn't have the dragon glass to help the Wall."

"Yes." She agreed. "But Loras wouldn't have…" she started to sob harder. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Gendry rubbed her back and she felt Dragonsteel curl up beside her. "Who did you bring Winter down on?" He asked gently.

"Maester Pycelle." She whispered.

"Why?" He questioned.

Arya explained what had happened at the meeting, stuttering it all out in broken half sentences. Gendry sat beside her on the bed, rubbing her back. Ros sent for a pot of hot water then came over to listen as well. When she was done talking Ros made her some tea using a few elderflowers and five rose petals, one purple, one blue, one yellow, one yellow with blue edges, and the last petal was plucked from the blue Winterfell rose that Gareth had given Arya. Gendry pulled away from the bed as Ros brought over the tea and Arya immediately felt a sense of loss, she caught Gendry's arm, pulling him back towards her. "Stay?" She pleaded.

Gendry pressed his lips together in that way that he had when considering between two bad choices, then gave her a sad smile. "We both know that wouldn't be appropriate." He whispered. "Besides, you've upset _dear Uncle_ quite badly. He has now decided that, since I won't simply give him the diamonds he needs, I can be the one to deal with the Iron Bank." He gently pealed her hand away from his arm then kissed her fingers. "I'll leave Dragonsteel to watch over you." He said softly.

Arya nodded sadly, but quickly realised that any movement of her head was a bad idea, at the loss of Gendry's touch her head felt clouded again. A wave of nausea washed over her and she groaned, allowing her head to fall back on the pillows despite the diamonds and flowers in her hair. Dragonsteel curled in close and some of the dizziness lifted. As her mind cleared a little she considered the implications of Gendry being forced to be the one to deal with the Iron Bank, he hadn't spent his entire life being trained by a Maester, Renly was being foolish… or setting Gendry up to fail. Arya was aware that she needed to warn Gendry, but of what? She frowned and thought of what she knew of Braavos and Braavosians. "Stay away from jokes," she whispered softly. "Especially about money or dragons. Braavos was founded by Valyrian slaves looking to escape their masters."

Gendry nodded. "No dragon jokes," He promised. "No dragon threats, either."

Arya nodded carefully, the dizziness wasn't so bad this time, she considered telling Gendry that Braavos might have been built by the faceless men, but she stopped herself short on that, she did however offer one more bit of advice. "You only need to understand two things to understand the Braavosi," She said softly. "Valar Morghulis, Valar Dohaeris, all men must die, and all men must serve."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I understand that."

Gendry moved away from the bed and Arya fought the urge to reach out to him again and beg him to stay, instead she reached a hand out to Dragonsteel, taking comfort in the dragon's presence. Ros took Gendry's place and urged her to sit up, Ros propped her up with pillows and placed the tea into her hands, but kept one hand on the cup. "Drink." Ros instructed, and guided the cup to Arya's lips, Arya obeyed. Ros, released the cup, once she was confident that Arya could hold it without spilling, and started carefully removing the flowers and diamonds from Arya's hair.

Arya half listened as Gendry and Ros spoke, but she was feeling drowsy. Ros said something about the books, and only then did Arya notice that there was a barrow of ledgers sitting near the door. Suddenly a thought occurred to Arya. "Gendry," She asked softly. "Why weren't you at the council meeting?"

"Shireen is sick." Gendry replied softly. "I'm sorry, I should have been there." After that he took the books and left, leaving Dragonsteel with Arya, as he had promised. Once Gendry was gone Ros helped Arya change into a nightgown and tucked her into bed.

"You really do know how to stir up trouble, don't you?" Ros murmured as she brushed some of Arya's hair away from her eyes. "Sometimes you're just too damned honest for your own good, you need to keep some things back." Ros dropped a gentle kiss on Arya's forehead. "Sleep." She whispered, "Rest, we'll work this out." And with that promise Arya slipped into a peaceful, dreamless, sleep.

~~/~~

There was something damp on Arya's forehead, she tried to open her eyes but they felt heavy, she murmured in frustration and tried to move, that was when she realised that there was something warm and heavy curled up against her and a weight on her shoulder. She forced one eye open and a dark grey eye, shot with flecks of white and blue, looked back at her, Dragonsteel, he blinked once and nuzzled into her. Arya's throat was dry and her tongue almost felt swollen in her mouth, she reached out and touched his face gently and he made a soft humming noise, the sound was comforting and Arya shut her eyes again, she soon drifted off to sleep.

She heard Gendry softly calling Dragonsteel down to the foot of the bed. Once the Dragon had moved away from her shoulder somebody started trying to make her drink, spooning water into her mouth and stroking her throat. No, not water, it was sweet… like honey, but she could taste herbs as well. It smelled strangely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Arya knew that she should open her eyes, but her eyes refused to obey, she fell back into sleep again.

Somebody was sponging down her face, her neck, her eyes fluttered open and she caught a glimpse of her mother.

"Arya." Her mother whispered softly and squeezed her hand.

Arya tried to open her eyes again, she didn't know where she was at first, but then the smell of elderflower grounded her, she moved to sit up and Catelyn held a small bowl to her lips, she drank the honeyed herb water eagerly, she knew why it was familiar now, it was what her mother had feed Bran when he wouldn't wake up after his fall. That meant she'd been unconscious for more than a couple of days. She tried to move and noticed that Dragonsteel was curled up on her legs. She frowned. "Privy." She finally managed to whisper.

"I'll get you a chamber pot." Her mother said softly.

Arya's frown deepened. "No," She said more firmly. "Privy, then I need to see Alyssa… how many days?"

Catelyn sighed. "You have a fever, Arya, you can't go near a baby with a fever. You need to stay away from Alyssa until you are better."

A fever? Arya wanted to laugh, she could raise winter winds, how could she have a fever? She tried to say something to that effect, but only ended up coughing, the coughing gave Dragonsteel a fright and he started to growl. Her mother tried to steady her shoulders, but Dragonsteel barged under Catelyn's arm, forcing her away. The Dragon climbed into Arya's lap and made concerned clicking sounds. Arya hugged Dragonsteel as the coughing fit subsided. "I'm sorry." She whispered to him.  
"I didn't mean to upset you."

Arya let her gaze return to her mother. Catelyn was hovering concerned, but weary, at the side of the bed. Arya suddenly felt a wave of sympathy for her mother, Catelyn Tully Stark had been forced to endure many things, not the least of which was her children choosing some very dangerous animals as friends and companions. Arya remembered how the direwolves had howled beneath Bran's window until Summer had been allowed in, how the direwolf had taken up his place on the bed and made everything that her mother did caring for Bran just that bit harder. She suddenly appreciated how afraid her mother had been of Summer back then. How much more afraid must Catelyn be of an actual fire-breathing dragon? And how difficult had Dragonsteel made it for her mother to care for her while she was unwell?

Arya slowly pushed Dragonsteel off of her, he grunted in disapproval, then moved to another part of the bed. "Privy." She insisted as she pushed back the covers. She managed to get to her feet, and move a couple of steps, before she swayed.

Catelyn caught her elbow quickly. "Seven, you're stubborn." Catelyn muttered.

Arya nodded and looked her mother in the eye. "Yes, I am, now are you going to help me or are you going to make me crawl?"

Catelyn sighed and rested Arya against the bed post. "Fine, but let's get you a robe and slippers first."

Arya studied the bedpost as her mother got a robe, there were woven idles to the Seven, just like the ones her mother had made when Bran was sick. "I don't follow the Seven," She muttered as she tapped one of the wreaths. "These won't help me."

"I do," Her mother replied as she helped Arya put the robe on. "Making them helps me."

Arya chewed at her bottom lip and nodded. "Fair enough." She finally replied. Catelyn helped Arya to the privy then back into bed, as she pulled up the covers she said something about going to get a Maester, however Arya was asleep again before any Maester arrived.

~~/~~

Arya could smell bacon, it mixed with the fragrance of elderflowers in a surprisingly pleasant manner… the bed was comfy, and Dragonsteel was curled into her, but the smell of bacon was making her hungry. She forced her eyes open and saw her mother sitting patiently by the bed, sewing. Arya decided to state the obvious. "I smell bacon." She muttered.

"Yes." Catelyn agreed, not looking up from her needlework.

"It's making me hungry." Arya muttered as she pushed herself into a sitting position.

"Gendry thought it might," Catelyn replied. "He seemed to think it important that I tell you there are eggs as well." Arya suddenly started to laugh uncontrollably, her mother put down her sewing and gave her a pointed look. "What's so funny about eggs?"

"Eggs to help me grow…" Arya replied between the laughter, she noticed that her mother didn't look amused. "I… it's a private joke… when we were Renly's guests at his camp near Storm's End… Gendry kept trying to give me some of his share of the bacon… I… I told him I needed room for eggs… told him that Maester Luwin says eggs help you grow. He's never called me short since, but he offers me eggs frequently."

"Ah…" Catelyn said softly. "I see… do Gendry and you have many private jokes?"

Arya shrugged. "I… we're close… we lived in very tight quarters for many months, we fought together, protected his family together…"

Arya watched as her mother nodded, then frowned. "Arya, I need to ask you a question, and I need you not to get angry with me, I need you to be honest… are you pregnant?"

Arya's jaw dropped in absolute shock, she just looked at her mother blankly then shook her head. "No," She said softly. "I am not pregnant, I could not possibly be pregnant considering I am still a virgin."

"Arya, please, be honest with me." Catelyn said softly. "Nobody needs to know, we can get you and Gendry married quickly -"

Arya cut her mother off. "If I was pregnant to Gendry I would have no reason to lie about it, I'd be proud of it, you really don't know me at all, do you?"

"Arya…"

Arya reached for her robe, and tried to ignore the fact that her hand was shaking, she ignored her mother and found her slippers, then went to inspect the food. She had suddenly lost her appetite, but she knew she needed to eat. She clicked her tongue softly and Dragonsteel flew over from the bed. There was hot bacon, eggs, and spicy sausage, fruit and cheese, cold chicken, bread, toast, butter, honey… Arya picked up a plate and put some chicken, a pear, some cheese, and two eggs on it, she put the plate on the ground for Dragonsteel then filled up a second plate for herself. She ate slowly and deliberately, leaving her mother to her own thoughts. She drank a glass of water, then a second, then a glass of cold sweet tea.

At some stage Catelyn walked over and took a seat at the table, but Arya focused on her food. Catelyn cleared her throat and still Arya ignored her. "Arya," Catelyn said softly. "Maester Pylos says your body is out of balance, it was him that raised the question that you might be pregnant."

Arya looked up at her mother blankly. "Maester Pylos is at Dragonstone."

Catelyn shook her head. "No, Maester Pylos is here, Gendry sent for him after Maester Pycelle refused to treat you, or to allow any other Maester in his charge to treat you."

Arya chewed on some bacon and thought about that. "So I've been sick for at least five days." She finally replied.

Catelyn looked at her for a long while then shook her head. "You arrived back at King's Landing sixteen days ago." She replied carefully.

Sixteen days! Arya hadn't held Alyssa in sixteen days! She'd left Gendry alone to deal with Loras, and Renly, and the Iron bank… she'd left Ros and Shireen unprotected… she took a deep breath and shook her head. She'd had enough rest, time to get to work. "Would you send for Elenei please?" She said softly. "I need to discuss what magnificent outfit she wants to put me into today."

"Arya, you need to rest and get your strength back." Catelyn protested.

Arya shook her head. "I've rested long enough, there is work to be done. If you want to send for Maester Pylos as well, you may. But I will be leaving this room today."

Catelyn nodded slowly, then stood. "As you wish, Princess Arya." With that she left the room.

~~/~~

Part 73:

Arya fidgeted with the hem of her dress, Sandor cleared his throat and she looked up at his disapproving look. "This is stupid." She muttered.

"Really, _Princess_?" Sandor scoffed. "Which part do you find stupid? Putting over three dozen of the most powerful people in Westeros, who don't like or trust each other, in one room and adding alcohol? Or, making a six month old baby girl the centre of it? Because you certainly couldn't be complaining about none of the guests being permitted to bear weapons… _arming them_ would be stupid."

Arya scowled and tugged at her dress again, with no swords there was no need for the black satin belt, the dress was beautiful and clingy, and showed off the few curves that she had, the dress was one of the ones that had belonged to Elia Martell, and Prince Doran had specifically requested that she wear it tonight. It was a soft silk, embroidered with pearls. The dress did not have arms, only thin straps of pearls going over the shoulder and criss-crossing over a low, scooped, back. The style of the dress had forced Arya to shave her underarms, as was the Dornish fashion. The dress was also incredibly short, stopping above the knee. There was a beautiful 'belt' sewn into the dress, made of many looping chains of pearls, the belt had three layers, the loops of the first layer dropping only a couple of inches, the second layer dropping to just above mid-thigh, and the third layer of loops dropping almost to the bottom of the dress.

Ros had piled Arya's hair high on top of her head then let it cascade down in complicated loops of hair and diamond chains to match the skirt, Ros had also added strings of rare black pearls (which Arya suspected Gendry had paid for). Yet despite Doran's insistence and Ros' reassurances Arya was far from comfortable with how revealing the dress was, she tugged at the hem of her skirt again. "I feel naked." She muttered.

Sandor sighed. "I bet you do," He replied. "But if you show it you defeat the purpose, this dress is a power play, it is not just one of Elia's dresses, it is a _known_ dress, _famous_. You need to own it, to be confident in it. Margery, much like Cersei, is used to playing off of her beauty and suggestively. They know you to be strong, they know you to be a fighter, tonight you have a tougher battle, tonight you need to be ladylike."

Arya took a deep breath and nodded, they made the rest of the way towards the 'Queen's Ballroom' in silence, descending the last flight of stairs and rounding the corner to the antechamber. Arya waited her turn to be announced, she accepted Sandor's offered arm and let him lead her down the grand staircase that was the entrance to the room. The Ballroom was amazing, there were elaborate mirrors everywhere reflecting the light from the high chandeliers. There were tables set for feasting, musicians, jugglers, and a large area was cleared for dancing. Arya allowed herself to take it all in, the room was opulent, crystal chandeliers fractured and reflected the light of hundreds of candles. The floors, walls, and high ceiling were white marble inlayed with gold, wherever there weren't mirrors there were large frescos of dragons. Arya truly did feel like a princess in the songs as she descended the stairs. By the time she reached the bottom Gendry was there to take her arm and Sandor moved to the side along with the other guards.

"Wow." She muttered to Gendry. "We could clear some of the Realm's debt by selling a few mirrors and a chandelier or two."

Gendry chuckled as he led her away from the entrance. "Yes, we could." He agreed. "But they are irreplaceable, Renly won't have it. We could just as easily sell the pearls from your dress. But let's not talk about that tonight… you look amazing!"

Arya could fell herself blushing, Gendry didn't look too bad himself, he was wearing well cut black pants with supple leather boots that had been polished until they shone, he wore a black shirt under a short yellow samite surcoat, with a large black crowned Stag on the front and back of it. The belt that held the surcoat in place was gold links. A four inch chainmail sash, which looked to be either Valyrian steel or Dragonsteel, with large rubies inlayed in, crossed from his right shoulder to his left hip. Arya frowned and reached out to touch the sash. "I thought you hated making chainmail." She muttered.

Gendry smiled, his eyes glimmering with mischief. "I do." He replied, he bent his mouth to her ear and let his voice drop to a whisper. "I didn't make it."

Arya felt her eyes widen in surprise. "It's…?"

"Old." He confirmed. Then he smiled and straightened himself. "Come, I've kept you to myself long enough."

As if to make his point Arya's mother was pushing through the crowd trying to make her way towards them. Catelyn looked flushed and angry, and her voice was raised even before she was really close enough to talk to Arya. "What the hells do you think you are wearing, young lady?!" She chided. "That is completely inappropriate, go put some cloths on right now!"

Arya felt the smile leave her face as she pulled away from Gendry and straightened her back. "It was good enough for Elia." She replied meeting her mother's gaze.

"Well you are not Dornish!" Catelyn snapped. "Have some self-respect, cover yourself!"

"Catelyn Tully!" An old woman reprimanded. "That is not how the little girl that used to sit on my lap was taught to behave, your Whent mother would turn in her grave if she could hear you right now!"

Arya and Catelyn seemed to turn to look at the woman as one. The old lady was slight and short in stature, but the years had not bent her, she had fine features and high cheekbones, the same cheekbones that Catelyn and Sansa had. It was hard to tell what colour her hair had been in her youth, but it had likely been light as the years had turned it white, not grey. Catelyn quickly curtseyed as the old woman approached. "Lady Shela." She greeted softly.

Shela? Arya frowned, she knew that name… it took her a few seconds to work it out but she suddenly understood who the woman was. "Lady Whent." She greeted the woman. "I hope the Mountain's men did not defile your home too badly." Renly had made a point of ensuring that Harrenhal be returned to the old woman when he had first been made King, although nobody had known where she had gone after surrendering the Keep to Lannister forces at the time, Renly had publicly announced that it would be returned to her. Arya wondered if Renly had sent anybody to clean up the Mountain's mess or simply spoken some grand words in court. Yet, as King, his words alone seemed to be enough to have brought the old woman home.

"Thank you for your concern, the Mountain… did not treat my home with respect, but I spoke with your dear brother and he sent some Freefolk and some lovely giants to help clean the place up, Harrenhal certainly has room for them, and Mag is such a sweetie." Shela replied.

"Mag?" Catelyn asked with a frown.

"Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, he is a giant, a friend of Jon's, and a leader amongst his people." Arya replied, she returned her attention to Shela Whent. "Tell him… tell him I have been practicing the old tongue, and that I look forward to riding into battle on his shoulder."

Shela laughed. "He asked me to tell you that he is practicing our silly way of speaking, so that when you ride into battle on his shoulder he can understand you."

"Arya will _not_ be riding into any battle on a giant's shoulder!" Catelyn exclaimed.

Gendry cleared his throat. "Won't she?" He asked calmly. "I've tried to stop her do things before, I tried to keep her out of the battle for King's Landing… it doesn't work. The best that you can do is trust her instincts and pray that she will come back safely."

Arya could feel the tension building up in the air, then suddenly Shela cleared her throat and stepped between Catelyn and Gendry. "Enough of this talk," Shela declared. "Princess Arya, let my tired old eyes have a good look at you, why it is true…" She touched Arya's face, and looked her up and down. "You look just like Lyanna, except for the eyes, her eyes were darker… you have her wolfishness though. It's like looking at a ghost…" She looked thoughtful. "Did Prince Doran Martell ask you to wear that dress?"

"Yes." Arya said softly, she was taken aback at the old lady's words. Did she really look that much like her aunt Lyanna?

Shela released her face. "Interesting," She muttered. "I wonder what Doran is trying to say by putting the spitting image of Lyanna Stark in one of Elia's dresses?"

"Hopefully that he doesn't blame her." Arya replied softly, still somewhat shocked by the Lyanna comparisons.

Shela gave Arya a sad smile. "Yes, Lyanna is not to blame for Rhaegar's choices, I lost much of my family to that stupid war… Rhaegar… he should have had the courage to confront his father when Aerys arrived at the tournament, if Rhaegar had challenged Aerys ability to rule there and then… we thought he would, you know? We were ready… we would have followed him… not that it matters now. All of my sons and daughters are dead, my cousins are dead, I've buried all of them. It would be easy to blame Lyanna, or Rhaegar, or Aerys, or Brandon, or Robert… but the horrible truth is we each made our own choices, Aerys only had so much power because we gave it to him. If enough people had risen up against him when he wanted to burn Rickard Stark alive… but they didn't." Shela shook her head. "Forgive an old woman's ramblings, this is a celebration, no place for such talk. Catelyn, come, there are matters I would discuss with you, let your beautiful daughter enjoy herself." With that Shela Whent tugged Catelyn away before she could utter another word.

"Well, that was something." Gendry muttered and lightly tugged Arya in another direction.

Arya frowned. "Do you think she's right, about the dress?" She asked.

"No." Gendry answered confidently. "And Lady Whent is right, you are beautiful." He added softly.

~~/~~

Arya was pulled from conversation to conversation. Prince Trystane and Myrcella were there, but Prince Doran had not attended. Myrcella was in a flowy orange gown which was just as short as Arya's, if not shorter. There were women from a few Dornish Houses, and all of them had short, sleeveless, dresses. There were women from the Reach, in dresses of varying styles and modesties… soon Arya started to relax about her dress. Sansa was surrounded by ladies from the Reach. Despite being pregnant and overweight, she looked impeccable, but she also looked tired. There were not many representatives from the North, Wylla Manderly was there however, with a full entourage.

Alyssa was passed around, Brienne always at her side, as various nobles held her. Olenna made a show of being a doting great grandmother, and Margery held the girl a couple of times before wandering away. Arya wanted to walk over there, snatch up Alyssa, and leave, but every time she moved to do so Gendry's hand was gently on her arm, silently telling her not to.

Arya kept an eye on Alyssa from a distance, but then Alyssa started crying. Arya immediately started making a bee-line for her. Olenna got there first, but the child's cries moved to screams as the old woman held her, by now everybody was watching. "Let me." Arya said softly.

"Oh, go on then!" Olenna snapped, shoving Alyssa into her arms. "Let's see if you can do any better?!"

Arya took Alyssa and held the babe on her hip rocking her gently. Arya began to hum softly and Alyssa stopped crying. Alyssa reached up and touched Arya's cheek, then started cooing. Arya smiled and made her way back to her seat with Alyssa, still humming as she went, she sat down and placed Alyssa on her lap, rocking the child until she fell asleep. When Arya looked up she realised that _everybody_ was watching her. Slowly people stated to talk again and the party continued.

Catelyn quietly walked over and sat in the empty seat beside her. "Who would have thought?" Catelyn said quietly. "You're actually good with children."

Arya stroked Alyssa's hair softly. "No," She disagreed. "Only with children that I love." She felt her mother studying her carefully.

Eventually Catelyn sighed. "I'm sorry for my outburst earlier." She said softly. "I… you know that I only want to protect you, right?"

"You can't protect me." Arya said softly. "You never could, you don't understand me. You wanted me to be like Sansa, like you, but I'm not."

Catelyn nodded sadly. "No, you're not, you're a Stark through and through… I'm leaving tomorrow." she said softly. "I'm not going far, I'll be at Harrenhal if you need me. Old Shella Whent has invited me to stay."

Arya frowned. "Why?"

Catelyn shrugged. "She has outlived all her heirs… my mother was a Whent, it seems that Edmure, Lysa, and myself are her closest living relatives. The Riverlands need Edmure and Lysa is Lady of the Vale… I'm the only one left, she wants me to take the Whent name and become her heir."

Arya looked at her mother in shock, memories from the other life, of when she had been a prisoner at Harrenhal, flooded her mind. In all the time that she had spent there it had never occurred to her that she actually had a claim on the place! Gods, families were complicated! "Will you remarry?" Arya asked softly.

"I don't know." Catelyn replied. "I'm still young enough, but I would need to find a husband that was prepared to take the Whent name."

"Somebody noble, but with little to inherit?" Arya asked softly.

Catelyn nodded. "Maybe a third born son or… oh, I don't even want to think about it."

"But you need to." Arya replied, her gaze travelled the room in search of an answer then finally rested on Monford, she thought of Aurane, it made sense for so many reasons. "What about a legitimised bastard… somebody recognised for their bravery and actions in taking down the Lannister's?" She asked tentatively.

"I… Arya, I don't know."

"Think about it." Arya said softly. "Aurane Velaryon might be a good match."

"I… he's over a decade younger than me! Arya, you can't be serious." Catelyn exclaimed.

"He's twenty-five," Arya replied calmly. "And I trust him with my life, he'd be willing to change his name. Just… think on it. Monford and Aurane have always had my back, and Monterys is betrothed to Shireen… it would tie our families closer." She stroked Alyssa's silver hair and thought of Jon's parentage, of Daenerys across the narrow sea with her sense of entitlement and her dragons, and of all the uncertainties to come. "I think another dance of Dragons is coming." She whispered. "When it does, it might do you no harm to have a silver-haired husband with Valyrian blood in his veins."

Arya felt a knot of guilt start to curl in her stomach, here she was, speaking of family ties, yet she knew that Lysa was responsible for Jon Arryn's murder. And, whilst she hadn't shared that specific knowledge with Ros, she had Ros actively searching for evidence of Littlefinger's plans… if evidence was brought to light Arya would act on it. She had never met her aunt, and from what she knew from the other life, the woman had tried to throw Sansa through the Moon Door in an act of jealousy. With Lysa ruling the Vale they would not aid against the army of the dead, Arya would offer Lysa no mercy if she could find the proof she needed. But it would break her mother's heart. She studied her mother carefully, Catelyn looked tired and sad. She had been embarrassed by the truth of Robb and Bran's parentage being made public, and her husband appeared to have responded by taking the black… and now Arya was telling her to marry a bastard, albeit one naturalised by a royal decree. If only Arya could tell her mother the truth of Jon, of Alyssa, if only she could explain it all, but she couldn't.

Slowly Arya took her mother's hand. "Go," She said softly. "But think about what I said, I will do my best to ensure that Harrenhal is never touched by dragon fire again… there are weapons… I will arrange for the same plans that are being shared with the Northern Lords to be sent to you, the mechanisms are complicated… but I have Tobho Mott working on them, and father has the builders at the Wall working on them as well."

Catelyn squeezed her hand. "Thank you." She said softly. "I… sometimes I think the gods were cruel making you a girl, you would have made quite the general, but then looking at you with Alyssa reminds me that I need to have faith."

Arya let go of her mother's hand and gave her a sad smile. "I am quite capable of being a general _and_ a mother." She replied. "But I will not marry Gendry until Robb is able to come and give me away, and he cannot do that until he has fathered a child, there must always be a Stark at Winterfell."

"Always the stubborn one." Catelyn replied, she pushed herself to her feet. "I need to go and speak with Sansa… I… she's not happy… Please Arya, be there for her… she believes that Loras is keeping a mistress."

Arya looked at her mother sadly, what could she possibly say to that? What answer wouldn't hurt Sansa more? "There is no other woman." She replied slowly. "He… Loras' first love is his King, Sansa will always come second to that."

~~/~~

A couple of days after the final party the news arrived that the siege on Clegane's Keep had finally been broken and the Mountain was dead. Arya was both relieved and saddened, the news meant that there would be true peace, for a short time at least, but it also meant that Sandor needed to return home and clean up the mess his brother had left behind. The announcement was made at court, with Arya having been given no prior warning, and leaving her no ability to discuss the matter with Sandor. Renly gave Sandor two hundred men to help ensure the new peace was maintained, and wanted him on his way by first light the next day. Sandor had little choice but to agree, and Renly dismissed him to prepare. Before Sandor could leave however, Walder Frey brought business to the court. Walder had lingered after the celebrations, accompanied by over two dozen of his children and grandchildren, and seemed determined to return home with as few of them as possible.

"Ah, if it pleases your grace, I have business to address involving Lord Clegane before he departs." Walder announced as he shuffled forward. Walder was already half bent with age, yet all through the festival, and today, he had insisted on wearing the Dragonsteel greatsword on his back (the only exception being the final feast) and the weight of the sword only served to cripple him further. One of his sons, or grandsons, offered him a shoulder to steady himself.

Renly frowned, not recognising the man, and the speaker announced whom Walder was, Renly nodded and gave him permission to speak.

"A siege takes a terrible toll on a Keep," Walder said slowly. "And, as the Stark's keep reminding us, Winter is coming." He glanced at Arya as he made the statement. "I have had long talks with the King in the North, and I see that the need is real." He paused and looked around the court. "I have sent my own blood to bolster up the forces at the Wall, I have taken in Wildlings…" His gaze returned to Arya. "Ah, forgive an old man, _Freefolk_ … but I can do more to help."

"And how is that, Lord Frey?" Renly enquired.

"Lord Clegane will be needing funds to help repair the harm caused by the siege, and he will also be requiring a wife. I have many girls that would be suitable."

Arya watched as Sandor's jaw clenched, it was clear that he did not like where this was going. Sandor clearly wanted to say something, but he couldn't, so she had to. "With respect," she interrupted Walder Frey. "Sandor and I have spoken on this matter at length, he has no interest in an arranged marriage."

Walder smiled at her. "With a face like his he has little choice, besides, if he cares half as much for his people as you do, Princes Arya, he will hear my offer."

Renly looked intrigued, he cocked his head and turned his attention to Sandor. "Will you hear him, Lord Clegane?"

Sandor closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again. "I will hear, your grace." He replied.

Walder nodded. "Roslin, Fat Walda, come 'ere." He commanded. Two young woman, whom couldn't be more different from each other if they tried, stepped forward. Roslin was small. She had very white skin, a pretty face with a small chin, delicate nose, and big brown eyes. Between her front teeth she had a small gap. Her brown hair was longer than Sansa's and reached her waist. Fat Walda's most noticeable feature was her triple chins. "Rosiln is my prettiest," Walder stated. "However there are reasons that you might find Walda a better choice, I have plenty of others that you can choose from as well. My offer is simple, wed one of my line, trueborn or bastard, and I will give you their weight in gold to help repair your keep."

"So, you're paying people to take your granddaughters." Sandor observed.

Renly moved to say something, but Gendry spoke sooner. "Roslin is one of his daughters, to his sixth wife, Bethany Rosby. Walda is a granddaughter, she is the second daughter of his ninth son, Merrett Frey."

"You know my family tree?" Walder questioned suspiciously.

"The first book I ever owned was 'The History of the Greater and Lesser Houses' a gift from Princess Arya." Gendry replied. "I wouldn't say that I know it cover to cover, but I read it often, I find it impressive that so many generations of Frey are living side by side."

"Piled on top of one another is more like it." Walder replied sharply.

It was clear that Walder had painted Sandor into a corner, if Sandor did not accept a Frey wife, and their dowry, it would look like he was as bad as his brother and didn't care for his people. And Walder was right, Sandor _would_ need the gold. He walked slowly towards the two woman, Roslin lowered her gaze but Walda smiled nervously up at him. Sandor stood in front of them for a while then moved so that he was standing in front of Walda only. "Are you afraid of me?" He asked.

"I… I don't know, my Lord, I don't know you yet." Walda replied.

Sandor remained quietly in front of her but Walda didn't look away, after a couple of minutes he spoke again. "So, you're a second born daughter of a ninth born son, that's not very good marriage prospects, is it? Do you think I'm going to rescue you?"

"I…" Walda stuttered.

"I'm not, I've got a lot of hard work ahead of me, I can't promise you what state things will be in. we'll be traveling rough, no inns, you'll have to sleep on the ground."

Walda smiled at him. "I can do hard work, and I can sleep rough for a while if I have to."

Sandor nodded and turned his attention to Walder. "I'll take the fat one, at least she's got something to hold on to, and you'll give me twice her weight in gold, and send ten more of your boys to the Wall."

"You strike a hard bargain." Walder muttered. "One and a half."

"Price just went up, three times her weight in gold, fifteen boys to the Wall, and the skinny one goes into the service of Princess Arya." Sandor replied. "Want to keep bargaining?"

Walder sent a questioning look to Arya. "Do you accept these terms, _Princess_? Will you take Roslin into your service?"

Arya nodded slowly, she really did need more handmaidens… not that she would have chosen a Frey, but if she didn't want to undo the good will, gained by the sword that she had given him, she had little choice. "Yes, I accept." She agreed.

Renly smiled. "Good, good, I guess we will have to delay your departure then, as you have a wedding to plan-"

"What's to plan?" Sandor asked. "Mine is not a great House, there is no need for a large feast, and there will be no bedding ceremony, we can marry this afternoon and still be on our way by morning if the High Septon is agreeable."

"Sounds good to me." Walder agreed.

Renly looked a little flabbergasted but nodded in agreement. "Good, good, let it be so then." He agreed. "I…" He turned to Margery. "My queen, would you help see to a dress for the bride?"

Margery smiled. "Of course, my King." She replied.

"And I think we can get a small feast together, might as well do things right. Send a messenger to the High Septon, there is to be a wedding today."

Court wrapped up not long after that, and, as much as Arya wanted to confront Renly about blindsiding her with the announcement, there was much to do. Funny how when a King attends a wedding everybody else wants to be there as well. Arya did not get any opportunities to speak with Sandor before the wedding, so she couldn't really tell how he felt about the situation. On the one hand, Sandor didn't honestly believe that anybody would be interested in marrying him because of his scars. On the other hand, as much as he denied it, he was rescuing a woman with few marriage prospects. Sandor drank a lot of wine, during the wedding feast, before heading off with his bride, Walder tried to push for a bedding, but many men seemed relieved at Sandor's refusal, it would have taken a lot to carry the woman.

Come dawn the next day Arya was there to send Sandor off. She could read nothing of his body language, and found herself unable to ask him any personal questions. Not being able to read anything from him, she turned her attention to Walda, the woman seemed… happy. That had to be a good sign. As the sun rose Arya formally released Sandor from her service and stiff farewells were made.

~~/~~

Part 74:

The High Septon frowned and shook his head. "Sacrilege, absolute sacrilege. I will not allow direwolves and dragons in the Sept, not even for your wedding, Princess Arya."

"She shouldn't even be getting married in a Sept, anyway!" Robb snapped. "The wedding should be in front of a Weirwood, I've said it before, and I'll say it again, the wedding should happen at Storms End or Winterfell." Arya frowned, Robb had always followed the Seven, like their mother did, but ever since the return of the Crown of Winter that had seemed to change. She hadn't really noticed it at first, yes his coronation, and his wedding had happened at the Weirwood… but that was the Northern way. Yet when she thought about it she couldn't remember Robb going to the Sept once since his coronation. Still, it seemed uncharacteristic for him to be _so opposed_ to her getting married in a Sept.

Arya watched as Renly put his head in his hands and sighed. "Robb," he said softly, "We have discussed the political reasons why it is best for the wedding to happen at King's Landing, and the dominant faith here is that of the Seven. I follow the Seven, Gendry follows the Seven-"

"Says who?!" Gendry spluttered. "The Seven never cared about me, the Old Gods gave me Arya-"

"Enough!" Lady Olenna yelled. "You are squabbling like children! Yellow Lady, please show me that you, at least, have some sense."

Arya was still trying to work out why Olenna Tyrell was even at the meeting. Robb had arrived four days earlier, and Arya had been hopeful that the Wedding could be arranged quickly so that he could get back home to his young daughters. Robb had become a father to twin girls eleven weeks earlier, Bryn and Pearl. Pearl had been named such as she was much smaller than her sister, and there were strong concerns over her health. Arya knew that Robb was afraid that Pearl would die before he returned, and she felt guilty that he was even here at all. Unfortunately Renly intended to make a big deal out of the wedding, as it wed the recently separated North back to the Realm in many people's eye. That meant it that it would be at least two months before she would be married, enough time to allow ravens to be sent and important guests, such as the Martell's, to arrive, and that clashed with Alyssa's name day.

Arya looked at Olenna for a long moment, then at her mother, whom looked quite distressed. Olenna was right, Renly and Robb would keep arguing if she didn't put a stop to it, Arya did some quick calculations in her head and decided on a date. "The wedding will happen at King's Landing." She said calmly. "It will happen in the Sept of Balor in two moons time, on the new moon, five days after Alyssa's name day, it will be a good way to end the week of celebrations." She glanced at Olenna, whom nodded in approval, then turned her attention back to the High Septon, a pale and hugely overweight man whom was prone to sweeting. "Grey Wind, Lady, Ghost, Dragonsteel, and Opal will all be present." She said firmly.

The High Septon rose to his feet. "They will not! I will not allow those _beasts_ in my church!"

Dragonsteel, who was as large as a horse now, yet still insisted on following Gendry everywhere, lifted his head to watch the High Septon. Grey Wind, whom was curled up at Robb's feet, growled, and Robb clenched his right hand into a fist. The room suddenly felt colder, Arya turned to look at her brother, raising an eyebrow in question. Robb was wearing the Winter Crown, he seldom took it off these days, and if Arya didn't know any better she'd swear she could see ice starting to form between the points of the nine iron spikes.

She reached out and put a hand on his clenched fist. "Enough." She said softly. Robb unclenched his fist and the chill seemed to leave the air, Arya returned her attention to the High Septon. "Baelor would not have had a problem with it." She replied confidently, "Where, in the Seven Pointed Star, is it written that animals are not allowed in the Sept?"

"Well… it's not written exactly…" The High Septon replied.

"So it's not sacrilege." Arya replied with a smile.

The High Septon shook his head. "I still don't like the idea of these dangerous animals being in the Sept…" He muttered, crossing his arms defensively over his chest.

"I promise you, the direwolves and dragons will behave, I will not bring the Stranger down on my wedding guests."

"Oh, give it to her!" Olenna snapped. "We have far more important matters to discuss than the presence of a couple of _pets_ , and you are all giving me a headache. The wedding will happen at the Sept, the pets will be included, the ceremony will be mid-afternoon, we've agreed on the date. Is there anything else that needs to be discussed that requires the High Septon's presence?"

"Jon and I will both be giving Arya away." Robb said firmly.

"Robb, that's not appropriate." Catelyn argued softly.

"Normally only one person gives the bride away." The High Septon pointed out.

"Yes," Robb agreed. "And normally the bride takes the name of her husband's family, but this is not a _normal_ wedding, it is a _royal_ wedding, and as such some changes will be required in the wording, and the ceremony itself. As Arya will remain a Stark, when her maiden cloak is removed it will be replaced by a battle cloak. I will remove the maiden cloak, then Jon will place the battle cloak around her shoulders. She goes to Gendry an equal, a warrior princess, with no need of his cloak for protection."

"That's a very nice sentiment." Renly replied carefully, "But if she comes to Gendry already cloaked then what does he put on her as a sign of their marriage?"

Gendry and Robb exchanged a look then Gendry spoke. "Robb and I have discussed this, some people in Essos exchange rings, I was thinking simple bands, made of the new steel I've created, although Inanna has a few ideas as well…"

Olenna frowned. "Who is Inanna?" Then she waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, whatever, I don't care. They, want rings, let them have it, can we please get past the boring stuff and talk about the important stuff."

"The wedding is the important stuff!" Catelyn snapped.

"Lady Whent," Olenna said softly. "Alyssa's name day, and ensuring that this wedding does not overshadow it, is the important stuff. Gendry and Arya's marriage is important, yes, but it is only as important as Gendry is, an importance that will diminish as Renly gives me great-grandsons." She shot Renly a pointed look, then returned her attention to Catelyn. "It is not like when you married your first husband, Lord Stark… more like… you current marriage, to your consort… Huey whatever…"

"Ser Hugo Vance." Catelyn growled between clenched teeth.

Olenna made a dismissive gesture. "Yes, yes, I don't actually care what his name is. The point is it would be _nice_ if your new union results in children, but it's not the end of things if it doesn't. You, and Lysa, already have heirs, and your brother will find a wife eventually. Or, if he doesn't, I'm sure he has a bastard or two lying around that could be legitimised. I hear he's quite the ladies' man, and legitimising bastards seems to be the fashionable thing to do these days. After all, look at Robb and Gendry."

Catelyn pushed herself to her feet. "How dare you!" She growled.

Olenna stood and held her gaze. "I dare because it's true, now sit down and behave. Really, and I thought Arya was going to be the problem here." Olenna scoffed. "No wonder Sansa's struggled so hard to settle in at Highgarden with a hypocrite such as you for a mother! You hate bastards, but you have two of your own, legitimised yes, but still bastards. You taught Sansa to desire the ways of southern courts, yet taught her nothing about how to function in one, you taught her nothing about being a wife… you left those lessons to a Septa! A woman with no knowledge of men, and too stupid to stop herself from being sent to a Mother House in the first place. You actually had her believing she was better than everybody else, yet she's completely uncultured, she doesn't even appreciate good Myrish art. I had thought that it was because she was raised around those Northern barbarians, yet Arya quotes Valyrian and makes friends easily. The only thing that Sansa has done right, since she has come into my care, is give my Loras a son!"

"I-" Catelyn started to retort.

"Sit. Down." Olenna said firmly.

Catelyn shook her head. "Arya is _my_ daughter, you have no right-"

"I'm paying for half of this damn wedding!" Olenna snapped. "Not because I want to, but because I don't want it to be an embarrassment to the crown. Now if you would rather pay for half of the wedding… oh wait, you don't have those sorts of funds."

"I'll pay for half of the wedding." Gendry snapped. "I'll pay for the whole damn wedding if you leave this room right now!"

"Why I never…" Olenna snarled, then she turned her attention to Renly and gave him a nod. "Good luck, your grace, you're going to need it." With that she raised her chin, squared her shoulders, and strode out of the room.

Renly sighed. "I do hope you meant that, nephew, that's quite a bit of money that just walked out that door."

"I did," Gendry replied calmly. "And I have an idea, if the High Septon will approve it, that might be better for everybody. What if we held the wedding at the Dragon Pit? Then its outside, with plenty of room for guests, dragons, direwolves, even giants."

"That is a thought." The High Septon replied.

"I could live with that." Robb agreed. "Mother, what do you think?"

Catelyn nodded and sat down. "It could work."

"Were we… inviting giants?" Renly asked softly.

~~/~~

Arya stood on the tailor's stool and sighed as Ella and her mother argued about the wedding dress, the incomplete wedding dress that she was currently wearing… they were arguing about the train, and the bustle. Catelyn believed that the train was ridiculously long and needed to be able to be removed, she wanted it to be attached with small pearl buttons. Ella was confident that the design of the train, and bustle, meant that the train could be folded away to make movement easier for Arya during the feast. As they continued to argue Arya tried to tune them out. Roslin Frey met her gaze and gave her a sympathetic look. They hadn't even discussed the top half of the dress yet, and Ella's samples of Myrish lace were currently tucked away, at this rate the dress was never going to be ready in time.

A knock at the door was a welcome distraction, Catelyn hurriedly pulled a robe around Arya's shoulders while Roslin went to answer it, Roslin checked that Arya was decent then opened the door wider, allowing the visitor to enter.

Aurane Velaryon walked in with a smile on his face and a large wooden box in his hands. "Forgive my timing ladies, princess, but my dear brother insisted that this gift be delivered with some haste, he seems to consider it instrumental to the construction of the wedding dress."

Catelyn arched an eyebrow at him. "Is that so?" She asked sceptically.

Aurane's smile only widened. "Oh, only if you want the rarest pearls that you will ever see?" He placed the box down on a dresser, out of Catelyn's reach. "Pearls are kind of House Velaryon's thing. Do you know how many colours pearls can come in, Lady Whent?"

Catelyn frowned. "Whites of various qualities, and the garish black ones that Arya keeps insisting on wearing." She moved towards the box.

Aurane lent on the box, blocking her way, and smirked. "Incorrect." He replied. "Oh, they can be treated, made to change their colour in artificial ways, but naturally occurring pearls come in white, cream, silvery white, gold, pink, lavender, blue, grey or silvery-grey, and black. The pink, blue, lavender, and grey are very rare… grey is a traditional Stark colour, yes?" With his last comment he lifted the box, his long fingers opening it with a flourish. "These are some of the rarest silvery-grey pearls you will ever see." He chuckled. "A gift from the Merling King, you could say."

The box was filled to bursting with strings of the most delicate silvery-grey pearls that Arya had ever seen. She quickly stepped off of the tailor's stall, wincing at a slight pain in her stomach, and started walking to Aurane. "No," She said firmly. "That's too much, your House cannot afford to give me such a gift."

Aurane smiled. "As I said, a gift from the Merling King, just like the black pearls currently in your hair."

Arya shook her head, her frown deepening. "They have to be worth a fortune, Aurane, I can't accept these."

"Yes, you can." Aurane replied calmly, then his look became serious. "The Merling King insists."

"I…" Arya stuttered. Was Aurane saying that the Merling King was real? Why not? The Night King was, Gareth the Greenhand was… "You'll have to introduce me to him some day." She replied calmly and took the offered box.

Aurane nodded, then laughed, he took her empty right hand and kissed the back of it. "Of course, my princess, before Winter comes." He winked at her.

"Well," Catelyn muttered. "If you two have quite finished jesting about mythical beings…"

"Yes, yes, of course, Lady Whent." Aurane replied, he bowed deeply, paused long enough to blow Roslin a kiss, then sauntered back out of the room.

Catelyn rolled her eyes. "That young man is trouble." She muttered.

"Oh, don't be a prude, mother." Arya sighed. "Aurane is a flirt, yes, but I'd rather have his sword at my side than the entire Lannister army, he means no harm."

Catelyn nodded, but did not seem to agree, she plucked a string of pearls out of the box and started to inspect them. "White would have been better for a wedding dress." She muttered.

"A normal wedding dress, yes." Arya agreed. "But this is a royal wedding."

~~/~~

Part 75:

Arya had known that Olenna could be petty, but according to Ros, Olenna had spent an unnecessary fortune booking up caterers, builders, entertainers, basically anybody that she thought Gendry might need, to prevent him from being able to arrange the wedding. Unfortunately for Olenna, these were never people that Gendry had intended to hire in the first place. Whilst Olenna was supplying plenty of soldiers to keep the homeless away from the events, Gendry was employing the homeless. Much of the work required in the Dragon Pit was simply hard labour, and Gendry had builders that he trusted brought in from Dragonstone.

He got Ros to spread the word to the most undesirables that if they were there at sunrise they would get free food, and if they chose to work they would get more food and money. Sure, in the morning he was only offering bowls of the brown and day old bread, but he was getting it brought in by the cart load. He'd also hired every shoemaker from the Gate of the Gods to the Iron Gate to supply shoes to as many people as possible, and paid every bathhouse in the same area handsomely to supply their services for free for the next ten weeks. He'd also spoken with the orphanages about getting anybody suitable to work in return for a good donation. So beggars, orphans, and Septas ended up working side by side, but Gendry's plan was grander than that.

Gendry would often go around personally, finding the worst dressed, and get them new clothes, passing around extra food, and looking for people that were sick that he might get them the help that they desperately needed. After the second week he even started getting barbers in to help the less fortunate clean themselves up, after all, the tidier they looked, the better their chances of finding more employment. By the sixth week Gendry was actively trying to help them all get more permeant work.

Some evenings as Arya and Gendry sat down to have Chamomile tea together, he would tell her about a street performer that he had seen, or a sick person that he had helped, or an orphan that had gotten a position as a page with his help, it was amazing how much good he was being able to do at the same time as achieving his goals. He was still nervous about the catering for the wedding feast itself, but apparently Monford had some ideas, although Gendry wouldn't tell Arya what they were. In fact, Gendry was keeping a lot of the details about the wedding from her, but she trusted that he knew what he was doing.

The arguments between Ella and Catelyn about the wedding dress finally got unbearable for Arya, Ella had asked Gendry to bring Mhaegen over to help, which he had, and had also called in her former master, but Catelyn seemed to need to argue about every detail. Arya finally had to make a tough decision, she sat Ella and her mother down, first she told Ella that Catelyn was in charge of the maiden cloak, then she told her mother that she believed she needed to concentrate on that, and leave the wedding dress to Ella and her assistances. Catelyn didn't like that, she also didn't like that she was being excluded in regards to the battle cloak. In truth, Arya knew nothing about the battle cloak, or whom was making it, that detail was under Robb's control.

Thankfully Sansa arrived, baby Olenn and a wet nurse in tow. Catelyn quickly became engrossed in telling Sansa what she was doing wrong as a mother. Arya knew that she should feel guilty and be trying to rescue Sansa, but at the moment she was simply too relieved that her mother was distracted. Sansa offered to help mother with the maiden cloak, and it kept both of them mostly out of Ella's way.

Olenn was two moons old, he was a chubby baby, with Loras' dark blonde curls. He was just learning to crawl and explore, and was unbearably cute. Loras played the doting father, but the baby's presence seemed to put some tension between Loras and Renly, and between Margaery and Renly. Renly tried to get Alyssa to play with Olenn, but with Alyssa being almost one, already walking, and starting to talk, she was far more interested in spending time with two year old Berra, whom Mhaegen had brought over with her.

~~/~~

The week of celebrations started two days before Alyssa's name day, yet Jon was still at Dragonstone, Arya hadn't spoken to him in months, and she was nervous that she hadn't been able to talk with him about the wedding, but she guessed that if he had to leave Dagrau'r Rhosyn behind the less time he was away the better. Gendry and Dragonsteel had been going back and forth between Dragonstone and King's Landing over the last two months, and people were becoming more accustomed to seeing the steadily growing dragon flying above the boat, so they hadn't been too shocked when Opal had been flying beside him. Dragonsteel might not seem much larger than a horse when he wasn't flying, but his wing span was impressive, and Opal seemed to be catching up to him in size.

What had been surprising, even for Arya, was that Opal sported a saddle, and Shireen was riding on her back. Opal could only carry Shireen short distances, and couldn't have carried a full grown man, but it was still a reminder that the time of dragon riders had returned. The first thought that crossed Arya's mind was that Daenerys' dragons were older, and likely larger, if Shireen could ride hers then Daenerys' dragons could be ridden also. It was the first time that she had thought of Daenerys or her dragons in months, but at the thought of them Arya felt a sharp stabbing pain in her stomach, she knew this pain, it was the pain she had felt when the Waif had stabbed her, the pain she had felt when she had used blood magic to come back and change things. The pain had haunted her for a long time afterwards, but eventually it had gone away and she had forgotten about it, why was it back now?

Was she doing something wrong? Was marrying Gendry a mistake? She tried to push the thoughts aside and focus on the matters at hand. They needed to be united when Winter and the Night King came, and this wedding helped unite them. But part of her doubted, ever since she had seen the cracks in Renly's façade she had doubted her choice to make him king. Were the pains a sign that she was wrong not to act to put Jon on the Iron throne? Could they afford another war?

Doubt continued to plague Arya, stealing her tongue. Alyssa's name day came and Arya took a back seat to the proceedings, letting Renly and Margaery play at being good parents. There was a final feast for the high nobles on the large square roof of Maegor's Holdfast. It was for a very select group only, the Tyrell's were there, of course, and Robb, Arya, and Gendry, Tyrion was there. Edmure had come from the Riverlands, and he and mother were there. Prince Oberyn was there, Doran claiming poor health, Oberyn had brought his Paramour this time, and Trystane and Myrcella were with him.

As the party proceeded Loras, who was quite drunk himself, decided to try and make a fuss of Gendry not drinking, he kept going on and on about it, and about how Gendry would have to drink on his wedding day, until Gendry finally snapped. The punch was a solid blow, and sent Loras to the ground, causing the musicians to stop playing and everybody to go silent, so when Gendry started yelling everybody heard him clearly.

"The last time I drank wine you drugged it!" Gendry yelled. "Then your sister raped me, because Renly wouldn't consummate their marriage… then _you_ raped me to keep me silent!" He was shaking and tears were rolling down his face. "Now I'm supposed to stand here, and remain silent, while my _uncle_ pretends it didn't happen, and pretends my daughter is his. And you wonder why I won't tell any of you where my brothers and sisters are?!"

Olenna was the next to yell. "How dare you!" She exploded. "You are nothing but a bastard! We have tolerated Renly's indulgence of Arya's requests long enough! These heinous lies will not be accepted! You are a monster! A bastard and a monster! You want to take everything away from Renly, you _dare_ to claim his daughter as your own! But that's not enough, is it? You have to hurt my family too! Well I won't have it!"

"It's true." Margaery said softly. "It's all true."

Arya had been so focused on Olenna that she hadn't noticed what Margaery was doing, when she turned to look she realised that Margaery had Alyssa in her arms and was standing barefoot on the edge of the building, ready to jump. Arya felt her heart lurch into her throat, there was no way she could get to Alyssa in time. "Margaery, please." She whispered.

When Margery turned to look at Arya her expression was strangely peaceful. "You really do love her, don't you?"

Arya nodded and started cautiously walking towards Margery. "Yes." She whispered, "Margaery, please…"

Margery looked down at Alyssa and stroked her silver hair. "I don't get it." She whispered, she looked up at Arya. "Why do you love her? She's not yours… she's mine and I can't love her… look at her, she's so _Targaryen._ "

"Yes, she is." Arya agreed as she slowly edged her way towards the ledge that Margery was standing on, she just needed to get a little bit closer. "But that's not her fault, she's a child, an innocent, she deserves to be loved."

"Elia's children were innocent." Margery said softly, she seemed almost to be in a daze.

"Yes." Arya agreed. "They were." She needed to catch Margery off guard if she was going to grab Alyssa. _'Jon, forgive me.'_ She thought. "So was Lyanna's, he deserved to be loved as well, but my mother couldn't love a motherless child." She moved quickly, grabbing Margery's arm with her right hand and putting her left hand under Alyssa. As she pulled them down from the ledge Margery let go of Alyssa, but Arya managed to catch her, sending Margery sprawling to the floor.

Loras ran to his sister's aid and helped her up, she clung to him and started to sob. Loras shushed her and stroked her hair, all the while sending death glares at Arya and Gendry. "Margery, you're unwell," He said softly. "You don't know what you're saying. Father, grandmother, she's unwell, she doesn't know what's true."

Margery looked up at Loras and stroked some of his curls away from his face. "Dear brother," She whispered. "You know I love you, yes?"

"Yes, Margery, you're unwell, we're going to get you help, okay?"

Margery took a step and Loras moved with her, Arya noticed that they had moved closer to the ledge, she held Alyssa close and took a step towards Gendry, saying nothing.

"I remember the first boy you raped." Margery whispered. "He caught you in bed with Renly and was going to tell… I thought we were just going to bribe him, or scare him… but you were right, he stayed quiet…"

"Margery, you're sick, you don't know what you're saying." Loras pleaded, Arya watched as they took another step closer to the ledge. She took another couple of steps towards Gendry.

"It made me feel so powerful." Margery whispered. "Nobody could touch us, between you and me we could have every man on their knees…"

Loras had a hand on either side of Margery's face now. "Margery, Marg, you have to snap out of this, listen to what you're saying… Marg, you're sick."

"Remember when we wanted those horses, but they wouldn't sell them." Margery whispered. "I was twelve then, they didn't even touch me but I threatened to cry rape." She touched Loras' face. "We were so powerful, we thought nobody could stop us… but we need to be stopped, Loras, we need to be stopped."

"Marg…" Margery stepped closer to the ledge, pulling Loras with her. Arya took another step backwards and suddenly Gendry's hand was on her arm.

Margery tiptoed and kissed Loras on the forehead. "I love you, brother." She whispered, then she threw herself over the ledge and pulled him over with her.

Perhaps Arya could have stopped it? Perhaps she could have raised winter winds and saved them, but she didn't, she didn't even try. Instead she turned towards Gendry, finding comfort in his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her and Alyssa. There was screaming, and yelling. Sansa was sobbing somewhere and Arya could hear her mother trying to calm her down. Olenna was yelling, so was Robb, Renly was strangely quiet. Arya pulled back from Gendry's embrace and looked at Renly, he was just standing there looking lost. "Go to your uncle." She said softly.

"Arya, I…" Gendry shook his head.

"He needs you." Arya said softly. "He never had a family, not really, his brothers were terrible and they sent him way. He grew up in Tarth. Loras was all he had, I know you feel he failed you, but that's no reason to fail him. Go, I'll keep our family safe."

"Gods, I love you." Gendry muttered, he dropped a kiss on her head, then on Alyssa's, then went to his uncle.

Arya made her way to her mother, Sansa, and Edmure. "Come on." She said.

Sansa sent her a hateful look. "You knew!" she screamed. "You knew everything!"

Arya sighed and held Alyssa closer. "Not everything, and this isn't the place to talk about it, come on." She stopped by Sansa's rooms to get Olenn, his wet nurse, and Lady. When they reached her rooms she instructed the guards to triple the watch and keep any Tyrell away. She also asked for Robar, Ella, Saia, Shireen and the dragons to be sent for. There weren't enough chairs, so Arya instructed everybody to sit on the bed, then she started to explain everything.

~~/~~


	16. Chapters 76 - 80

Part 76:

Edmure sat on a chair, his head in his hands, he looked rather shaken by the events of the evening. Saia and Sansa's wet nurse were in one corner talking softly. The other wet nurse's name was Emma, and she looked rather scared of what she had been pulled into. Brienne was standing in the middle of the room, trying not to pace, Olenna had excluded her from the nights events, but the commotion had woken her and she had immediately gone looking for Alyssa. Brianne had stood quietly as Arya had explained the truth of Alyssa's identity and conception, she'd not spoken one word of doubt, nor tried to defend Renly. Arya had expected that once the truth was known Brienne would go straight in search of Renly, but she hadn't.

"Princess Arya," She had said softly. "I have sworn to protect Alyssa, until my king gives me some other instruction, that is what I will do."

Sansa had eventually cried herself to sleep on one side of the bed, Catelyn was beside her, offering her comfort, even in sleep, and Lady was at her feet. Shireen was curled up on the other side of the bed and Opal was on the ground beside her. A cot had been brought into the room and placed at the foot of the bed, Ella and Robar were shearing it, top and tail. A crib had also been brought in for the babies, Olenn and Alyssa were sleeping peacefully, the cousins oblivious to the drama that they were at the centre off. Arya was at the table, trying to recall everything she had ever read about the vassal houses of the Reach's family trees in hopes of coming up with a plan. Shireen's mother had been a Florent, that had to be worth something, House Hightower were tied to Oldtown and seemed to care mostly about knowledge, surely they would be reasonable… Her thoughts kept returning to Samwell Tarly, it was his father that she needed to worry about, they had one of the larger armies in the Reach. Eventually she sighed and pushed herself to her feet. "I need Ros," She muttered. "And Monford."

She went to the door and issued some instructions to a couple of guards. Olenna had slighted Monford, deeming him not important enough to be at the rooftop party, but he had likely been woken and advised of the drama by now. Ros… well that would take longer, but Arya needed her, she also needed somewhere a bit more private to talk to them. Then she went and retrieved her weapons, strapping on first her sword, Rhosyn Melyn, then the Valyrian dagger.

"Uncle Edmure?" She asked softly. "I… need to attend to a few matters, can you make sure everybody is safe? I'll instruct my guards to obey your commands, Brianne will not obey your commands, but she will do what is right."

Edmure Tully looked up at her with uncertain eyes. "The dragons…"

"I'll take Dragonsteel with me, Opal will be fine unless somebody tries to hurt Shireen."

Edmure swallowed, glanced at the large opalescent dragon, and nodded. "Okay," he said softly.

Arya paused, she had only met her uncle for the first time a few days ago, but she knew about him from the other life… "Uncle Edmure?" she asked hesitantly. "If I needed you to marry a Reach girl to help maintain the peace, a Tarly, or a Florent… would you?"

"I…" Edmure looked at her for a long time, but finally he nodded. "Family. Duty. Honour." He replied stoically.

Arya nodded. "Good."

"Where are you going?" Catelyn asked quietly from the bed.

Arya bit her lip. "I'm going to speak with my advisors first, but I think I'm going to blackmail Randyll Tarly, and tell his Florent wife the real reason why her precious Samwell took the Black." She turned her attention back to Edmure. "They have three daughters… if a marriage pact is met the wedding might need to happen rather hastily."

Edmure nodded. "If that is what is needed to keep the peace with the Reach… I… hmm… you really are quite capable when you're determined, aren't you? I never quite believed the stories, but I'm starting to."

Arya nodded, she walked over to Dragonsteel and gently stroked his muzzle. "Dragonsteel, come, Alyssa is safe, but I need you." Dragonsteel blinked his large eyes at her, the flecks of white and blue dancing in their grey deaths, and slowly began to stand.

Arya was almost at the door when her mother spoke again. "Arya?"

She paused and turned. "Yes, Mother?"

"Is Jon Rhaegar's?"

Arya bit her lip, she glanced at Brienne, then at Edmure, then returned her attention to her mother. "Would it change anything if he was?"

Catelyn hesitated for a long moment then shook her head. "No." She admitted.

"Then does it matter?" Arya replied. "Jon is the Whitewolf, all he has ever wanted from you was a little bit of kindness, but you could not give that to him. He has never wanted to take anything from you, or from us, he has never wanted to take anything away from anybody, not then, not now. If Renly can be a good king, Jon's parentage doesn't matter."

"And will his children feel the same way?" Catelyn asked coldly.

The knock at the door saved Arya from having to reply, the door opened and a guard poked his head through. "Lord Monford is here." The guard announced.

Arya nodded and gave Monford a weak smile. "Let's take this conversation somewhere else."

~~/~~

It might have been arrogant for them to use the Small Council meeting room, but nobody else was. Ros had come swiftly, and Arya had explained her idea. Both Monford and Ros had agreed that it was a good plan, and Ros already knew which inn Randyll and his wife were staying at. Guards were sent to summon them, Monford and Arya shared a pot of chamomile tea while they waited.

Randyll Tarly was not accustomed to being summoned in the middle of the night, and he certainly wasn't happy about it, nor had Arya expected him to be. She had requested for a large hunk of bloody meat to be brought in and given to Dragonsteel just before they arrived. An entire skinned sheep carcass, head and all, was brought in. Dragonsteel did eat red meat, but it was not his favourite food. He preferred it cooked, but he was well enough trained not to use fire indoors. The sheep carcass was raw, so he ate it slowly, in a way that added to the show of strength that Arya needed to display. She had also arranged for six guards to stand inside the room. Randyll's rage was tempered by a sense of self preservation. Arya smiled calmly, offered Randyll and Melessa a seat, and started to advise them of the events that had transpired over the evening. She then acknowledged the strength of their armies, and the fertility of their fields. Then she explained to them the precedent by which her father had taken over Jon's oath to the Night's Watch, that as it was Ned Stark's choice of not telling Jon the truth of his parentage (she did not divulge Jon's parentage) which had impacted his decision to take the Black, Ned, as the at fault party, and the Lord of his House, was the one responsible.

"How does that impact me?" Randyll snapped.

Arya smiled and sipped her tea. "Just before Samwell's eighteenth name day you took him aside and told him that if he didn't take the Black you would take him hunting and he would die in a terrible accident. Or, at least, that was what you would tell your wife. The gods do not look kindly on kinslaying, nor does the church, threatening your heir is an affront to the Father."

"Randyll, is this true?" Melessa asked, visibly upset.

Randyll ignored her and pushed himself to his feet. "Are you threatening me?!" He snapped. Dragonsteel looked up from his meat, his jaw bloody, and growled.

Monford sighed. "Princess Arya does not make threats, she does, however, make promises. She is simply ensuring you have all of the facts before putting our offer on the table."

"Your offer?!"

"Randyll, answer me, did you do that? Did you threaten my Sammie?!" Melessa begged.

"Shut up women, now is not the time." Randyll sneered. "Why do you think I'll listen to an offer from you?" he snarled at Arya.

Dragonsteel growled again, but Arya raised a hand, silencing him. "Because our offer is one of peace." She said calmly. "I see no need for House Tyrell's indiscretions to lead to war."

"I will not-" Randyll snarled.

Monford rose to his feet. "If you will not, that is fine. We can have you arrested and thrown into the black cells for crimes against your heir right now, we can have you tried first thing in the morning, and sent to the Wall in chains before midday. Whether or not this frees Samwell from his vows will be for the Lord Commander to decide, however Ned Stark is known to be a reasonable man." He turned his attention to Melessa. "Lady Melessa, forgive me, I know you must find this all quite distressing, but you must think of your family right now. You have three daughters, yes?"

"Yes." Melessa agreed softly.

Monford nodded. "Lord Edmure Tully, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, has consented to discussions of a marriage pact in the name of peace. Lady Melessa, are you open to this?"

Melessa gathered herself and nodded. "Yes." She answered more firmly.

"I am the Lord of my House!" Randyll roared, slamming his hand down on the table.

Monford sighed. "Lady Melessa, would you like Randyll taken to the black cells now?"

Melessa glanced at her husband and her jaw tightened. "Yes, if you please." She replied calmly. Randyll struck her so quickly that even the closest guard could not stop him, the force of the impact sent Melessa flying backwards, chair and all, but the guards soon had him in hand. Melessa did not cry out, or flinch, at the strike, and Arya suspected that the blow had been expected. Melessa simply gathered herself and watched with emotionless eyes as her husband was dragged out of the room, via a different door to the one that they had entered, Randyll did not go quietly. The Tarly guards that had accompanied them barged into the room with their swords drawn, but Melessa stood and raised a hand to stop them. "Randyll is being arrested on charges of intent to Kinslay." She said calmly. "If Samwell hadn't taken the Black, Randyll was going to murder him."

The guards looked from Melessa to Randyll, torn as to what to do, then they looked at Dragonsteel, one of the guards sheathed his sword and took a step towards Melessa. "These are legitimate charges, my Lady?"

"Yes." Melessa answered sadly. "I am tired, Ser Hyle, will you take me back to my inn now?"

Ser Hyle nodded and the others sheathed their swords. "Yes, my Lady." He offered her his arm and she took it.

Melessa paused at the door. "It is late," she said calmly. "Let him sit in the black cells a while, the trial can happen at your leisure, I will advise our soldiers that they no longer take orders from House Tyrell, and I will advise House Hunt of the same. You would find House Florent easier to get on side if they saw a possibility of their claim to Highgarden being addressed. House Beesbury are sworn to the Hightower's, but they'll be reluctant to do anything that angers the Florent's. It is hard to predict what the Fossoway's will do, but if you must choose between the red apple and the green, choose the red, Cider Hall is tacitly more valuable to you."

"Thank you." Arya replied, she studied the woman carefully, there was a large red mark already forming on the side of Melessa's face. "Has he ever broken the rule of six?" Arya asked softly.

Melessa nodded. "I have never been unfaithful, but I have spoken out of turn, he has struck me more than six times on a few occasions, but not many."

Arya nodded. "Have any of the guards with you witnessed this?"

Melessa's gaze moved to Ser Hyle, and then to one other guard. "Ser Hyle Hunt has, and Ser Humfrey Flowers."

Arya looked from one man to the other. "Sers, will you testify to this at the trial?"

Ser Humfrey looked hesitant, but Ser Hyle gave a sharp nod. "Yes, Princess, justice must be done, and I'll be glad to see it done." He bowed to her, then led Melessa from the room.

"Strong woman," Monford muttered. "I like her."

~~/~~

Renly, Gendry, Robb, Oberyn and Tyrion entered the meeting chamber not long after Melessa had left. Renly looked at Arya and Monford with surprise. "I was just going to send for you two, but I see you are already here. Why are you already here?"

Monford bowed deeply. "Securing the Reach, my King, there are some things you need to be aware of in regards to House Tarly. Oh, and there will be a trial later today against Randyll Tarly for crimes against his heir, and breaching the rule of six. Unless you would like to wait until Jon Snow arrives, he is a witness against the first charge, we have other witnesses against the second charge, of course, Ser Hyle Hunt, for one. House Tarly will not be rallying to House Tyrell's aid any time soon."

"That's very… uh… effective." Renly muttered.

Monford nodded. "That's what you pay us for, your grace, would you like some chamomile tea?"

Gendry nodded before Renly could reply. "Tea sounds good, we may be here a while, why don't we send for another couple of pots?"

"If we're going to be here a while I want something stronger than flower tea." Tyrion muttered, he rounded the table, suddenly seeing Dragonsteel's mess. "My, you've been busy, anybody I know?"

Monford chuckled. "I wouldn't be worried, unless you're friends with sheep."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow at that as he climbed up to his usual chair. "You never know, I just might be."

"It is certainly a spectacular visual," Oberyn agreed as he took a seat. "I trust it had the desired impact, Princess Arya."

"It made Randyll pause long enough to let me talk." Arya replied. "Unfortunately he chose not to listen."

"That sounds like something father would say… uncle." Robb muttered as he took a seat.

Arya gave Robb a sympathetic look. "Robb, Brandon Stark may have sired you, but Eddard Stark raised you, he is your father in every way that matters."

"I… I'm still struggling with that." Robb muttered. "I mean, what if I suddenly died and Jon raised my daughters? I don't know how I'd feel about them calling him their father, but I'd want them to _have_ a father… it's confusing."

"It's a matter we're going to have to address with Alyssa." Gendry agreed. "Especially if she starts calling Arya 'Mother'."

Robb shook his head. "No, the truth is out now, there will be no hiding it from her, all we can do is minimise the damage, it's the secretly that hurts."

Arya was still trying to get her head around the idea of Alyssa calling her 'Mother'. "Wait…" She muttered, she turned questioning eyes to Renly. "I get to raise Alyssa as my daughter, I mean officially, not just in secret?"

"Yes." Renly agreed.

"As a Baratheon?" Arya pushed.

Renly gave her a small smile. "Yes, as a Baratheon, not a Waters."

Arya nodded. "And Brienne? What does this mean for her? Is she still Alyssa's protector?"

"I… hadn't thought that far ahead." Renly muttered. "I guess it depends-"

Arya cut him off. "She knows what happened tonight, she's protecting Alyssa right now. She said that she has sworn to protect Alyssa, until you give her some other instruction, that is what she will do."

Renly chewed on his lower lip and nodded. "Yes, that sounds like her. I… she must be quite disappointed in me right now. Well, so be it. The less things that change due to the cat being let out of the bag, the better, Brienne will stay as Alyssa's protector." He sighed. "I suppose we better send for Maester Pycelle and get this meeting started."

Tyrion shook his head. "Why? He's never productive, and seldom useful, why don't we let the old fart sleep."

Arya glanced around the room. "Agreed, but, as Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, Uncle Edmure has as a right to be here."

They talked long into the night about how to control the damage of the evening's events, Tyrion hesitantly raised the suggestion of postponing Gendry and Arya's wedding, but Renly was adamantly against it, if anything, him being outed as gay only reinforced the need for Gendry to marry as soon as possible. Eventually Oberyn raised the subject of what Arya had said to Margery in regards to Lyanna's son, the Red Viper watched each person carefully as the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. "I see…" Oberyn muttered when nobody would reply. "And, can I assume that I am the only one whom has managed their way through the journals of High Septon Maynard?"

"No," Arya said softly. "Father has read them."

"Although he claims that they were rather painful." Robb added.

"They are." Oberyn agreed, he looked around the room again. "Ah, I see, so we are not going to discuss the possibility of a trueborn, _male_ , Targaryen heir?"

"Heir to what?" Robb asked. "House Targaryen lost, yes, there is a man out there that is afraid to use his real name, a man that only learnt his real name a little over a year ago. But that man is not a threat to Renly unless Renly means him harm. And, as that man is my cousin, if Renly means him harm then the Realm and the North are at war, are we at war, Renly."

Renly paled. "No." He replied.

Robb nodded. "Good, then there is nothing to discuss. Isaeyan Targaryen will stay where he is, and live under the name that he was raised by, and we will not speak of it. Now, I would like to get some sleep before the sun rises, can we please get back to the matter at hand?"

Arya watched Tyrion as he sipped his wine, Tyrion's gaze seemed to be moving from face to face, looking for clues in regards to Isaeyan's identity. "Isaeyan," He muttered. "That's an interesting name."

"It's the name of the goat herder whom first discovered a dragon egg." Monford muttered. "I guess you could equate it to the name 'Brandon' in the North. Only certain _very important_ Valyrian families were permitted to use it, House Targaryen was not one of them. Of course, of the forty families, only those from Targar, Velar and Barath remain."

"Barath?" Renly questioned.

Monford smirked. "Of course, that's what Baratheon means, 'From Barath', but let's save that conversation for another day. Can I correctly assume that the Tyrell's are very angry?"

"Yes." Renly agreed.

"Hmm, and we currently have their heir hostage, if one were to choose to view it that way." Monford turned his attention to Edmure. "Olenn was safe and secure when you left Arya's chambers?"

"Yes." Edmure agreed.

Monford nodded. "Then they won't try to act until we try to move him, the direwolf is going to be the challenge, Princess Arya, how did you get both direwolves out last time?"

"Foreknowledge and speed," Arya replied. "Neither advantage is available to us now. I literally walked them out of the front gate."

"Right, that's not going to work." Tyrion agreed. "But you _do_ know secret ways."

"Some," Arya agreed nervously. "I… know what to look for, but I seldom know where it is going."

Tyrion gave her an incredulous look and set his wine down. "Yellow Lady, are you trying to tell me that during the battle for King's Landing you, and your Bastard Army of twelve, completely annihilated my carefully planned defence through share dumb luck?"

"Well no," Arya defended. "We had tactics, we had a plan, the plan just… improved as new information became available."

"Now you see why I never like her plans." Gendry muttered. "Do you want to know the plan she had for getting baby Berra away from Littlefinger? Remove all of her weapons, get somebody to punch her so she looked weak, and get captured. She didn't have a plan to get out-"

"Yes I did, I had you." Arya defended.

"One angry armour, with a hammer in his hand, lurking in an alleyway is not a plan." Gendry argued.

"It worked." Arya muttered.

Tyrion picked up his wine and looked at it thoughtfully. "I don't know if this means I've drunk too much, or I need to drink more?" He reflected, then took a sip. "I pride myself on being a very clever person, I read, I study, I watch people. I've always considered my mind my best asset. But my mind doesn't stand a chance against somebody with no sense of self preservation. You, Arya Stark, make my brain hurt." He took a deep breath and set the cup down. "You also know how to disappear from the viewing gallery of the Great Hall, and you know a secret way in and out of the Red Keep, so, this is what I propose…"

Everybody listened as Tyrion laid out the plan, it was a good plan, but it had a lot of moving parts, they would all have to work together. Oberyn seemed quite excited, and Edmure seemed quite nervous, but there was little that could be done until daylight and they all needed some sleep. Eventually Arya returned to her chambers and asked Saia to share her room with Emma. Edmure went back to his own quarters, he had men to organise, after all. Arya checked the crib and brushed some hair out of Alyssa's eyes. She looked at the cot at the foot of the bed and noticed that Ella had stolen all of the blanket, she found another blanket and draped it over Robar, then she climbed onto the bed and crawled into the space between Catelyn and Shireen to get some much needed sleep.

~~/~~

Part 77:

"You have it?" Arya asked as Galan met them at the top of the stairs.

Galan nodded and produced a single key. "Yes, Princess Arya, I have it."

Arya took the key and looked at it carefully, it _looked_ like the Valyrian Steel key that she wore, but she couldn't be sure. She frowned and considered simply giving Galan the key she was wearing, but she still didn't trust Renly enough to let him know that she had a copy of Varys' key to the dungeon gate, besides, if things went badly she might need it to get Alyssa to safety. "Renly is confident that this is Varys' key?" She quarried.

Galan nodded. "Yes, princess, very confident."

Arya sighed and gave the key back to Galan, right now she was trusting her sister's safety on Renly being true to his word, if it was the wrong key, and something happened to Sansa, she'd… well, she didn't quite know what she would do, but it wouldn't be good for Renly. Sansa didn't know about the plan, nor did mother. Saia knew that something was up, and that her instructions were to stay with Olenn no matter what, but that was all. Emma seemed nice enough, but she was in service of House Tyrell, Arya simply couldn't trust her. Dozens of guards, Baratheon, Stark, Whent and Tully, filed in around them as they made their way towards the Throne Room.

But Olenna had guards of her own, about a hundred men tried to stop them, Olenna stepped out from among them to confront Arya. "I would like my Great Grandson back, please." Olenna said with gritted teeth. "You can keep your sister, and her mangy wolf."

Arya sighed. "Let us be civil, Olenna, we have all been summoned to court, Olenn included, to get this matter resolved. There is no need to resort to violence."

"No need at all," Olenna agreed. "But I must _insist_ that you hand Olenn over."

Arya watched as Mag, Wun Wun, and three other giants approached from the direction of the Maidenvault, Renly had offered the vault to Robb for the duration of his stay, and modifications had been made to accommodate the giants.

"Little wolf," Mag called out in his booming voice. "Is there a problem?"

Arya smiled up at the giant as he approached, somehow he looked more that fourteen feet tall right now. Mag's words in the common tongue were limited so she tried to make her answer easy for him to understand, she pointed towards the Throne Room. "We are trying to get over there, the big chief is expecting us, they will not let us pass unless we hand over my sister's son."

"I see," Mag crouched down so that he was more at her level. "Are they threatening you, little wolf?" he asked.

Olenna rolled her eyes. "You really think a handful of giants are going to scare me? Do you know the size of our armies? Do you realise just how powerful we are? Go to war with the Reach and millions of people will starve, you wouldn't dare let these beast-men hurt me. Now, I _insist_ , hand Olenn over."

Mag looked curious. "Question, little wolf, 'insist' I do not know that word."

"It means that if we don't do what they want they intend to use force." Arya replied.

Mag grinned. "Good!" He boomed and straightened himself. "They _are_ threatening you! Robb said we couldn't eat them unless they were threatening you." He looked around at the other giants. "Who wants breakfast?!" some of the other giants started to murmur in agreement and surge forward.

Arya watched as guards nervously reached for their weapons. "Wait!" She yelled, and the giants stopped. "I can't just let you eat them on words, Olenna, be reasonable, let us take this matter to court. I will be right up the front, where you can see me, I'm not going anywhere."

Olenna frowned. "On your word as a Stark?"

Arya smiled and offered her hand. "On my word as a Stark." She replied. "I'm not going anywhere."

Olenna looked at her questioningly for a long moment then took her offered hand and gripped it wrist to elbow. "Court then." She agreed, she turned to her men. "Let them pass."

~~/~~

Arya watched as Sansa and her mother took places in the viewing gallery, they were surrounded by guards. Olenna placed numbers of Tyrell men at the stairs and the side entrance, Arya watched silently, waiting until Olenna was confident that there was no way for Sansa, Lady, and baby Olenn to escape. "Are you satisfied?" She asked once Olenna had finished arranging the guards.

Olenna looked at her carefully. "No, you're up to something."

Arya nodded in acceptance, there was no point in denying it, she allowed a slight smile to tug at the corner of her mouth. "You haven't spoken with Randyll Tarly this morning, have you?"

Olenna glared at her and took a menacing step forward. "Randyll is a loyal man." She sneered.

Arya held her ground. "I never said he wasn't." She replied calmly, then she took Alyssa from Saia's arms and went to take her place at the table just below the Iron throne, Brienne standing guard at her side.

Arya took a deep breath and looked around the room, Mag and Wun Wun had placed themselves near the viewing balcony, the other three giants spacing themselves around the room. Everybody was giving them plenty of space, people piled in slowly. Monford arrived and calmly walked up the Hall to join her at the Small Council's table. "Your brother will be late, Princess." He whispered in her ear. "The boat with Jon on it arrived in port about twenty minutes ago, King Robb has gone to greet him and fill him in on the recent events."

Arya gave a slight nod. "Good, that's good." She whispered, trying to calm her nerves. "And the other matter?"

"Aurane has that under control." Monford reassured. "Galan has the key?"

Arya nodded. "Yes." She confirmed. "Or at least I hope it's the right key."

Monford patted her shoulder. "It will be, after learning about Isaeyan Renly would not be stupid enough to double cross you." He reassured.

Arya chewed on her lip and nodded. "I know, but keys can be confused…"

Monford smiled at her. "Renly is far more intelligent than he pretends to be, and far more cautious." He frowned. "Galan has only travelled that passage once, yes?"

"It's handled." Arya replied. Yes, there was a risk that Galan wouldn't remember the way, but Balerion would. Arya didn't have to concentrate very hard to feel the cat waiting in the passageway behind the alcove. There was a concern that Lady might not react well to the cat's presence, but it was a risk Arya had to take.

More people entered the Throne Room over the next twenty minutes, Alyssa got bored and started wanting to move around, but Monford quickly scooped her up and started playing with her, he seemed completely unconcern as to what any onlookers might think as he sat her on the table in front of him and started pulling faces at her. Soon Alyssa was laughing and tugging at his hair, and his ears, even his nose. Tyrion arrived whilst they were playing, and simply stood, amused, for a few minutes before finally taking his seat. After a while Alyssa settled down. The room was getting quite full now.

Maester Pycelle finally shuffled his way in, looking perplexed and flustered. "What the seven hells is going on?" He asked as he took his seat. "Loras and Margery dead? The Tyrell's threatening war? And somebody even said there was a dragon in the harbour!"

Arya frowned. "What colour was it?"

"Oh, I don't know!" Pycelle snapped. "People are seeing dragons everywhere, Dragonsteel and Opal have them scared!"

The High Septon, and his entourage arrived, a seat had been set up to the left of the throne for him, but he waited at the foot of the stairs for Renly to arrive. Arya turned her attention back towards the doors and noticed Melessa Tarly slip into the back of the room with a dozen guards and do her best to blend into the crowd. Olenna and Mace Tyrell, whom were at the front of the room with a good many knights around them, did not seem to notice her enter. Arya turned her gaze to the gallery, Sansa was gripping Olenn tightly, Lady on her right. Mother was on her left, speaking softly. Saia and Galan were behind her, as were many other guards.

Trumpets blew, announcing Renly's arrival and everybody stood straight, the murmurs dropping to silence. Four guards entered, then Renly, then four more guards. Next came Gendry, the room erupted into murmurs of surprise as Dragonsteel walked beside him, four more guards made up the rear, but Arya noticed that they were not Renly's guards. Even if she hadn't known the men the inlaid chips of yellow diamond and dragon glass on their sword hilts would have given it away. That was unexpected… Renly paused at the bottom of the stairs and shook the High Septon's hand, ignoring his nervous glances at Dragonsteel. Renly lead the High Septon up the stairs, placing him on the left of the Iron Throne, then Gendry calmly led Dragonsteel up and took the place on Renly's right.

"Dragon! Dragon!" Alyssa squealed and squirmed out of Arya's arms, she dodged between Brienne's feet and started making her way up the stairs.

Renly laughed. "Yes, dragon." He agreed. "It's okay, Ser Brienne, why don't you bring Alyssa up here beside her friend?"

"Yes, my king." Brienne replied, she scooped up Alyssa and strode up the stairs, then hesitated.

Renly gave Brienne a gentle smile. "Gendry," He said softly. "Why don't you take your daughter?" If there had been murmuring and muttering before the room erupted at this comment. Gendry stepped forward, took Alyssa, and put her down beside Dragonsteel, Alyssa immediately started climbing all over the dragon. "Ser Brienne, would you take your place on Gendry's right please, let Alyssa play, but watch where she goes." Brienne bowed and did as was asked. "Quiet, please." Renly called out, but the murmuring continued. "Everybody be quiet."

"SHUT UP!" Mag boomed. "I want to listen!" The room feel silent.

"Thank you, ahh?" Renly frowned up at Mag.

"Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg." Mag responded. "I am a chief amongst my people."

"And we are honoured to have you here." Renly replied, he turned his attention to the room. "I'm sure you have all heard many rumours about the events of last night, and the reasons behind it, I would like to start court today by setting the record straight, I have lied to you. I have forced Gendry and Arya to lie to you, I have made mistakes, bad choices, and my heir, Gendry, has suffered for them." He turned his attention to Gendry. "Gendry, I owe you an apology, when I first met you all I saw was a younger version of Robert, I was so wrong." He turned his attention back to the room. "I want to be a good king," He glanced at the High Septon. "Baelor taught that a good king must be humble. So today I will humble myself before you, bear my faults, and pray to the Seven that you will forgive them."

"Oh what a crock of shit!" Olenna snapped. "Give my great grandson back!"

"Lady Olenna," Renly said calmly. "I understand that you are grieving, but if you cannot restrain yourself I shall have to ask Lord Mace to have you removed." He took a deep breath. "I have sinned," He said calmly. "I have known the love that does not result in children. I blame my brothers, Robert was a Kinslayer, let us not forget it! Rhaegar was his second cousin! Robert was a lustful man, and a drunk, but Stannis was no better. Stannis was just as happy to Kinslay, but too cowardly to do it with his own hand, he had no qualms in sending an assassin after me. Stannis had turned his back on the gods, turning instead to sorcery and blood magic." A tear dropped from Renly's eye and ran down his cheek. "No wonder then, that I was weak to the kindness, and the comfort, that Loras offered me."

"Oh please!" Olenna snarled. "Loras was _your squire_! You corrupted him!"

Renly gave her what appeared to be a genuinely sad look. "I wish that were so, Lady Olenna, but we both know you groomed your grandchildren to seduce."

"This is outrages!" Olenna shrieked. "I will not hear another word of this… this-"

"Mace Tyrell, if you cannot control your mother please remove her." Gendry said calmly.

"Or at least gag her." Tyrion suggested.

"You don't tell me what to do, _bastard_ , and neither do you, _imp._ " Olenna snarled.

Arya watched as Mace put a hand on Olenna's arm. "Actually, they do, mother, please be silent."

Olenna threw his hand off and shook her head "Coward, Mace." She snarled. "You're a coward, just like your father." She turned her attention to Gendry. "And _you_! Why, I should ring your neck you sullen little bastard!"

"Arrest her." Monford snapped. "She just threatened the heir to the throne."

Everybody watched as Olenna was dragged out, yelling and screaming, once she was gone Renly continued to tell his story. As much as he did apologise to Gendry, he took little blame for the events that lead to Alyssa, and his choices afterwards, painting himself instead as the victim. Most of what he said was true, but the truths were often twisted. The Reach had held food ransom, people would stave if he didn't bend to their wills, he didn't want to put people through another war… They were all fine excuses.

Gendry, for his part, accepted Renly's apology, publicly at least. The High Septon also absolved Renly of his actions, speaking of compassion. The marriage between Renly and Margaery was publicly annulled and Renly was freed of all obligations to the Reach in that action. Mace Tyrell, for his part, was smart enough to remain silent. All of this took a little over an hour, then Randyll Tarly was brought in for his trial. Jon and Robb had still not yet arrived. Arya glanced up to the gallery, Sansa, Galan, Saia, Olenn and Lady were gone.

~~/~~

Part 78:

Ser Hyle Hunt had just finished giving his testimony, and Randyll Tarly was in the process of calling him a liar, when the great doors at the back of the Throne Room were thrown open loudly. There were murmurs and muttering as everybody turned to look, as the crowd drew back and made room Arya suddenly saw why. Robb was standing there, with dozens of guards, the Crown of Winter on his head and looking every inch a king, Grey Wind on his right. Jon was to the right of Robb, Jon's long curls were brushed to perfection, and he wore them in the same half up style that father wore his hair. Jon was dressed head to toe in well-cut black clothing, of the exact same style as Robb's but without the direwolves, and looking every inch Robb's equal. Ghost was to the right of Jon, but that wasn't why people were muttering…

It had been a few months since Arya had been to Dragonstone, and the last time she had seen Jon's dragon Dagrau'r Rhosyn had still been very small, now the long Wyrm-like dragon was at least as long as Jon was tall, although still thin. The blue and white dragon had her front set of legs resting on Jon's left shoulder, her head above his, her back set of legs seemed to be resting on his right hip, and her long tail was wrapped around his waist.

Jon and Robb walked forward in a synchronised march of long strides, moving quickly to the front of the hall, as if in unspoken agreement they both stopped two steps behind Randyll Tarly. When Jon spoke his voice was clear and confidant.

"Forgive me, my King, I would have presented myself to you sooner, however Ser Loras obstructed my entrance to King's Landing on my last attempt, and I have been busy serving the needs of Prince Gendry ever since."

Arya watched Renly's reaction, along with the rest of the room, Renly looked visibly pale, but he covered any apparent unease quickly. "Am I your King?" He asked smoothly. "The King in the North stands beside you as your brother."

Jon glanced at Robb then returned his gaze to Renly. "Raised as brothers, yes." Jon agreed. "But technically Robb is my cousin." He stepped past Randyll and approached the bottom step, taking a knee and drawing Longclaw as he spoke. "Prince Gendry has honoured me with the role of Steward, if I am to serve the Prince of Dragonstone I must also serve his King, my sword is yours to command."

Renly looked nervously at the dragon coiled around Jon. Arya sighed and rose to her feet. "Dagrau'r Rhosyn, to me." She commanded.

Dagrau seemed to look to Jon for conformation, Jon touched her face gently and then she began to uncoil herself from him, she spread her translucent blue and white wings and flew the small space between them, landing on the table supplied for the Small Council. Pycelle moved backwards quickly, upending his chair and landing on the floor, he scrambled to his feet muttering. "Intolerable, this is absolutely intolerable." But Arya ignored him.

Monford simply smiled and Tyrion looked on in wonder. "My…" Tyrion muttered. "I… that is not a _Targaryen_ dragon."

"No," Arya agreed softly. "It's something older." She reached her hand out carefully and Dagrau rubbed against it. Dagrau then slowly wrapped herself around Arya. Arya returned her gaze to Renly and noticed that he was still hesitating. "Ghost." She called. Ghost bound around the table, causing Pycelle to stumble back further, and took his place at her right side, sitting happily. Arya petted him and smiled, she could feel hundreds of eyes on her, but there was only one set whose reaction she cared about right now, she searched out Mace Tyrell, meeting his gaze until he took a step backwards and lowered it.

Renly seemed to relax a little, he descended the stairs and lent in close to Jon. "Isaeyan?" He asked in a low whisper, but Arya was close enough to hear it. She watched as Jon gave the slightest of nods. Renly nodded as well and took the offered sword, speaking in a loud clear voice. "I accept your offer of service, but I will not have you kneel, stand, cousin." The room erupted into murmurs as Jon rose to his feet, Renly returned Jon's sword to him and pulled Jon up on the step beside him, turning Jon to face the hall. Although they were on the same step Renly was more than a good head taller than Jon, a sharp reminded that although Renly did his best not to seem imposing he did have the Baratheon height and strength. Renly cleared his throat a couple of times but the room would not quieten.

"Shut up!" Mag bellowed, smacking his club into the floor, the effect was immediate. "Much better." he mumbled.

Renly gave Mag a nod then addressed the room. "Allow me to present to you my second cousin, once removed, Isaeyan Targaryen, Steward of Dragonstone, son of the lawful union of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, whom were married in secret, in Dorne. Lord Eddard Stark knew my brother well, and hid his nephew, Isaeyan, under the name Jon Snow, claiming him to save his life. But I am _not_ my brother, like Ned Stark, I am not a _Kinslayer_ , or a _child killer_ , and I recognise Isaeyan as my blood. In a few days the blood ties between the Realm and the North will be strengthened by the union of Gendry and Arya, but they already exist. I hold no enmity towards Isaeyan, nor towards Daenerys for that matter." He moved his gaze to Robb, acting as if he had just realised something important. "Oh dear, I do hope my announcing this truth doesn't cause problems for you in the North, Robb."

Robb smiled broadly. "Oh, none at all, Renly, many of the Northern Lords are already aware of this truth. The biggest concern is that, now it is public knowledge, some of my banners may wish to encourage my cousin to attempt to reclaim what his father lost."

Renly's smile faltered for just a second as he locked eyes with Robb. "A good thing Ned Stark raised him better than that." Renly replied.

"Yes, a good thing." Robb agreed.

Renly's overly bright smile returned and he turned his attention back to Jon. "Your timing is fortuities, cousin," He said slapping Jon on the shoulder. "Randyll Tarly is currently on trial for breaking the Rule of Six, and crimes against his heir, will you speak on the latter charge?"

Jon nodded. "My King, my cousin," He said calmly. "I have much to say on the latter charge, if you will hear me. However your Maester looks rather concerned for his own safety, will you allow me to call my dragon and my direwolf back to me?"

Renly nodded and dropped his arm, stepping to the side. "Of course, let the trial continue."

~~/~~

To Renly's credit he did not flinch, or step back any more, as Dagrau returned to Jon and Ghost sat at Jon's feet, Renly remained on the same step as Jon as the trial proceeded. The trial went as predicted, and Randyll was sent to the Wall, a raven sent ahead of him to suggest that his crimes required him to take over Samwell's oath. Robb offered to arrange Randyll's transport, meaning that he would remain in the black cells until Robb returned home. Melessa Tarly was named the acting head of the House and she reaffirmed her loyalty to the crown.

The matter then turned to what to do with Olenna, Renly was no fool, he was not throwing an old woman in the black cells, but she was a problem. It was decided that she would be kept under guard, until after the wedding, and then be escorted back to High Garden. No comment was made on Sansa, Olenn, or their sudden absence. As court was being called to a close Renly quietly requested a small council meeting. Everything seemed to have worked out rather well, too well. Thirty minutes later, when Arya entered the Small Council Chambers she realised that Renly's calmness had been little more than a Mummers act. Arya, Monford, and Tyrion entered the room together, Renly was already there, standing at the head of the table, but Gendry and Pycelle were yet to arrive.

"Three dragons?! _Three_ dragons?!" Renly snarled as they entered the room. "And Jon is Isaeyan! You really are prepared to replace me at any moment, aren't you, _Yellow Lady_?! I should have the wedding stopped! I should have you thrown into the cells for treason, you Monford, and Tyrion!"

"If I recall correctly," Monford said calmly. "It is _you_ that insisted upon this union, and, if I recall _correctly_ , it is Arya _Kingmaker_ that gave you the Iron Throne in the first place. We are not your enemies, not unless you make us so."

"Jon knelt to you, publicly." Tyrion pointed out. "He reinforced that Gendry is the Prince of Dragonstone, not him. Besides, why are you so angry? You've been a Tyrell puppet for years, now you get to be a puppet for people that actually _care_ about the Realm, not just their own gain."

Renly opened his mouth, then closed it again and shook his head. "I am the king!" he snarled.

"Yes," Arya agreed. "You are the king, be a good king and you will remain that way. But, as good leaders, we need to be prepared if you fail your people."

"Always have a plan, don't you, _Stark_." Renly snarled.

"Yes, always." Arya agreed.

Renly slammed his fist against the table. "Damnit, what am I going to do about the Reach now? Once Olenna is released she will retaliate, and Mace is too weak to stop her. I admit, you've done a good job removing Randyll Tarly, but we need to destabilise them more if we're going to prevent them from rising up against us."

Gendry had entered the room while Renly was speaking. "That's easy," He replied. "Convince Mace to give Arya Dunstonbury, and the surrounding lands, as a wedding gift."

Renly blinked rapidly. "Dunstonbury? The castle is almost as cursed as Harrenhal! It's already gone through three landed knights since it was stripped off of the Peake's!"

"Yes," Tyrion agreed. "But all that is after it was taken from House Manderly, it is currently a property belonging to High Garden, by separating it, and it's vassal lands, Highgarden is immediately weakened."

"It's close enough to Highgarden that Arya need but make a Manderly her Steward and the Tyrell's will watch their step." Monford added.

"Of course, no need to point that out to Mace." Gendry added. "You convince him to gift it under the impression that Arya will make it a safe place for Sansa, which she will, that his grandson might eventually return."

"I…" Renly straightened. "I guess those tutors were worth their gold, nephew. Well, it is official that I will never father a son now, I guess that makes you the heir apparent, good to see you behaving like one." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes the calm, friendly, Renly had returned. "Now, what do we do about the people that want to rise up behind Jon?"

"You trust Jon." Arya replied.

"And, if you feel uncertain, maybe you suggest a betrothal between Alyssa and Eldrick?" Monford added.

"No!" Arya snapped. "Alyssa is a baby! She will not be betrothed until she is old enough to have a voice in the conversation!"

"What are we even talking about?" Renly frowned. "Eldrick? Who is Eldrick?"

"Oh," Monford replied calmly. "Eldrick Targaryen, Isaeyan's son."

Renly paled. "He… has a son?" He whispered.

"Oh yes, trueborn as well, did you not realise that Jon has a Freefolk wife?" Monford replied with the same calmness.

Renly blinked again, he seemed to be struggling with all of this new information. "Three dragons, direwolves…" He muttered. "Giants, Rhaegar has a living son, whom also has a living son, to a wildling! And you want me to believe that the Night King is real… I'm going mad, gods, I'm going mad. Let's hope Daenerys never tests the validity of my welcome." He clutched the edge of the table. "I… I think I need some sleep."

"I think we all do." Monford agreed.

Just then Pycelle hobbled into the room. "Somebody want to explain to me who, and how, Isaeyan is?" He asked.

"Have you read the journals of High Septon Maynard?" Arya asked calmly.

"Nobody's read them," Pycelle snapped. "They are all but impossible to read."

"That's not quite true." Arya replied calmly. "Both my father, and Oberyn Martell, had the patience to find the royal secrets hidden within, how better to hide an annulment and a marriage?" She smiled at Pycelle. "Why don't you write to Oldtown and have the Maester's check? Isaeyan was born at the tower of Joy, and his son, Eldrick Targaryen, was born the same day that the Winterfell dragon egg hatched, at Dragonstone."

"Hmm, well that is easy enough for you to say without a copy of the journals here..." Pycelle muttered.

"Oh, there is a copy here." Arya reassured. "Prince Oberyn took the liberty of ensuring that, I'm sure he won't mind fetching it for you." She stifled a yawn. "Renly, are we done here?"

Renly nodded. "You may go take a short nap, Yellow Lady, but you will be expected at the Luncheon, shall we say 1pm? That should give you enough time to catch up with your family and make yourself presentable."

Arya smiled. "Thank you." She replied with as much sincerity as she could manage and turned to leave.

"And, Arya," Renly called out after her.

Arya turned back. "Yes, Renly?"

"Let's have no more surprises between now and your wedding?"

Arya looked at Renly for a long moment. "I don't make promises that I can't keep." She finally replied. With that she turned and left, yes, she needed sleep, but she needed to talk with Jon first.

~~/~~

Part 79:

Arya found Jon at the Maiden Vault with Robb, the cool calm he had displayed in the Throne Room was gone, replaced by pacing and worry, Ghost kept step with him and Dagrau clung to him tightly, as if trying to offer support. Where Jon paced, Robb stood perfectly still, looking blankly at the empty fireplace, Grey Wind sitting patiently beside him. Jon stopped pacing as Arya entered the room and hugged her as tightly as Dagrau would allow. "Quite a morning." He muttered when he pulled back.

"Quite a night." Arya replied. "Has Robb..?"

Jon nodded. "Yes, he told me." Jon replied. "I'm glad you managed to rescue Alyssa, is she safe now?"

Arya nodded. "Yes," She said softly. "Brienne is watching over her, and Mhaegen is with her, I had to send Saia with Sansa so I've asked Emma to nurse her, but she's already half weened so I shouldn't need Emma's help for too long."

"Emma?" Jon questioned.

"The Tyrell wet nurse." Robb supplied. "Likely just a servant girl, but I wouldn't trust her alone with Alyssa."

"I don't." Arya replied calmly. "Brienne will be cautious."

Jon frowned and nodded. "Once we get back to Dragonstone Ygritte could nurse her, although we need to consider that it may not be safe for Emma to return to House Tyrell's service now." He ran his hand through his hair. "Gods, what a mess! I didn't plan to bring Dagrau'r Rhosyn, but she refused to stay behind, we tried to leave four times without her, she kept flying out after the ship." Dagrau nuzzled into him. "Yes girl," He muttered. "I didn't want to leave you either, I just want you to be safe."

"I think it worked out." Arya said confidently.

Jon gave her a look that suggested he disagreed, but he decided to change the subject. "That was a bold move with Randyll Tarly, dangerous though, it could have backfired badly."

"It still could." Robb said softly, he still did not turn from his position.

Arya took a deep breath and did her best to take measure of the situation, and to draw Robb more into the conversation. "So…" She said quietly. "Exactly how many Northern Lords are aware of Jon's true parentage?"

Robb sighed and continued to look at the fireplace, as if it was somehow fascinating. "Well Howland Reed knows…" He said softly. "Robett Glover and Larence Hornwood were in the Throne Room today, as were Maege Mormont and the Greatjon, so they know now…"

Larence _Hornwood_ , so Robb had legitimised him, Arya briefly wondered how Donella Hornwood was managing, but now wasn't the time, she needed to focus on the problem at hand. "But they didn't know before?" She asked softly, Robb shook his head, his back still turned to her. "Have you spoken with any of them yet?"

Robb's shoulders slumped. "Not yet." He whispered softly.

"You should send for them." Arya stated firmly.

"No," Jon disagreed. "Robb should wait for them to come to him in their own time, they likely feel angry and betrayed, sending for them will only compound that."

"But… won't they be angry that he pretended they knew?" Arya countered.

"Maybe," Robb answered softly. "But the last thing they want is to look weak, especially in front of Southerners, they are proud men and Marge is a loyal woman, they'll keep their opinions to themselves until our feet are back on Northern soil."

"And then what?! Robb, you need to sort this now."

Robb turned to her then and Arya suddenly noticed that there were tear tracks running down his cheeks. "Arya," He said softly. "It's my problem, I'll handle it."

Arya frowned, Robb had known the truth of Jon for over a year, his reaction was disproportionate, she suddenly noticed the small scrap of parchment in his hand, she took a step towards him on instinct. "Robb?" She took another step and touched his arm. "What's happened?"

"Pearl…" Robb muttered, but choked on the words, he handed the parchment to her instead.

The handwriting was Maester Luwin's, it was simple and to the point, Pearl was dead, nothing that could have been done about it, Bryn and Wynafryd were well, the date on the message proved it was over a month old. "When did you get this?" She asked.

"Grand Maester Pycelle delivered the message after court this morning." Jon answered on Robb's behalf. "Although, by the date on it, I suspect he held it for a while before delivering it."

"Why would he do that?" Arya exclaimed.

"To ensure that it's timing inflicted maximum harm." Robb replied quietly. "If not for today's events I suspect I would not have received it until the morning of your wedding."

"But why?!" Arya questioned.

"You know why," Robb replied. "He's still very angry at you, he can't lash out at you directly, but he can do little things to harm you, like hurting the people you love. He has a lot of power here, it wasn't smart of you to upset him."

"Damnit, I'll make him pay for this." Arya muttered.

"No, you'll do nothing, he's trying to force you to do something stupid, you cannot react, you _will not_ react." Robb replied firmly. "He's already spreading rumours that you are a witch, if you don't tread carefully he'll have the church against you, the church have a lot of power here."

"I'm not afraid of the church." Arya snapped.

"You should be, the church has sway over the common people, look how insane Baelor was, he built this windowless building to imprison his sisters, nearly starved himself to death, and ordered the burning of books! But because he did it in the name of the church people worship him!" Robb yelled. "You still have a lot to learn Arya, you've done well so far, but without the support of people like Monford you wouldn't have, you need to be smarter, you need to be more careful. Renly has just lost his lover, and learnt that there is a bigger threat to his power than Gendry, he is hurting, angry, and embarrassed. A wounded stag is unpredictable and dangerous…" Robb paused, taking a shuddering breath. "Arya, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be yelling at you."

Arya rushed over and hugged him. "It's okay, yell if it helps." She muttered against his chest. "I'm sorry that you got trapped down here trying to sort out my stupid wedding when you should have been home with your wife and your daughters. It's not fair." Robb hugged her back tightly and she started to cry.

"Shh, it's not your fault." Robb whispered. "Babies die all the time, it's just how it is, it's… I wish I could have been there, I… but you need me here just as much." He gave her a watery smile. "I'm glad I'm here to give you away."

"Robb, Wynafryd needs you, let Jon give me away… why are you even still here?"

"Four or five days will make little difference." Robb reassured her. "Besides, that's exactly what Pycelle wants, he's not on your side, but I don't think he's on Renly's side either. We need this wedding for stability and peace. Besides, I don't think I'll quite believe my brave rebellious sister actually got married unless I see it with my own eyes, I'm still trying to adjust to not seeing you covered head to toe in mud." He dropped a kiss on her forehead and stepped back.

"She wasn't always covered in mu-" Jon started to defend, but before he could finish his sentence the door slammed open, Catelyn was standing there, angry and red-faced, as if she had been crying.

"Have you two done embarrassing me?!" She snarled at Robb and Arya. "You secret Sansa away to gods only know where, without giving me any warning, then you put on a show in court, making it clear that you both knew the truth of _him_!" She jabbed an angry finger in Jon's direction. "How many lords have been sniggering behind my back?! How long has the North known?! What other surprises do you intend to blindside me with?!" She snapped.

"Pearl's dead." The words were out of Arya's mouth before she could even think, it was, as her mother had put it, a blindside, and it had the desired effect of halting Catelyn in her tracks.

"I… what?" Catelyn stuttered.

Arya held the scrap of parchment out to her mother. "Pearl's dead." She replied. "Died over a moon ago, we believe Maester Pycelle kept the news from Robb, he only learnt of it after court today."

Catelyn's disposition completely changed. "Oh Robb!" She muttered, she rushed over towards him and pulled him into a hug. "My poor boy, oh, my poor boy! I'm so sorry."

"I ah," Jon muttered and gestured towards the door. "Arya, will you walk with me?" Arya nodded and let Jon lead her from the room, leaving her mother to comfort Robb.

~~/~~

More Northerners arrived over the next few days, Arya noticed Robb having private meetings with each group as they arrived. Jon kept a low profile, he continued to dress all in black, but then, black had always been his colour, he still wore no sigil. The planned public evens continued as if nothing had happened, Jon did attend some of them, but stayed close to Robb, and Arya stayed close to Catelyn, Gendry stayed close to Renly, providing a unified public front.

The morning of the wedding arrived, and, as was tradition, Arya hosted a breakfast banquet for many of the highborn ladies. Although many of the other women were dressed in some of their most formal wear Arya herself was required to wear a simple white dress, her hair was out and brushed, having been washed the night before, her feet were bare, and a crown of Elderflowers was placed on her head. The only jewellery that she wore (other than the green and blue bead charm around her right wrist) was the two Valyrian keys that Renly had given her. She was not the Yellow Lady today, she was Princess Arya Stark of Winterfell, and she was surprised by how naked she felt without the yellow diamond armoured jewellery adorning her.

At least it was one event where Arya didn't have to worry about keeping her mother away from Jon, as no males were permitted, not even male servants. Arya usually hated such events, but after the last few days this was actually an opportunity to relax. Wylla Manderly had arrived a couple of days prior, along with her uncle, Wendel, Wylla had taken the truth of Jon better than most, and had promised Arya that she would do her best to help support Catelyn over the next few days. Myrcella was also there, and her kind gentle nature shone through in her compassion for Catelyn. Arya watched as the three talked and laughed, Myrcella regaling them with tales of Dorne, Myrcella seemed very much in love with her new home and her future husband.

There were over fifty women present, and Arya did her best to be a good hostess, but she honestly couldn't remember all of the names. So when a Dornish women approached her she was somewhat embarrassed that she couldn't place them. The woman was of an age with Robb, Jon, and Gendry, she had black hair and a light tan, she was what you would call a 'Stony Dornish' although her looks favoured the First Men more than the Andal's, her eyes were a rich blue, almost purple, but that could have just been a trick of her clothing, her dress was a deep purple trimmed with silver.

"Princess Arya." She greeted, clasping Arya's hand in both of hers.

Arya gave her an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've been introduced."

The woman shook her head. "No, we haven't, although I believe I have you to thank for my nephew's return. I am Allyria, Allyria Dayne, although you may call me Ally if you wish. My nephew, Ned, was a squire to Ser Beric, and taken in by the lies of the Red Priest, abandoning his inheritance to remain with the Brotherhood Without Banners. After your… demonstration, the brotherhood disbanded and my nephew returned home."

"I am glad," Arya replied. "Although I can take little credit."

Ally nodded. "Yes, of course, but I have yet to find Gareth the Greenhand and offer him my gratitude."

Arya smirked. "Perhaps you're looking in the wrong gardens?"

Ally laughed. "Oh, I like you, Arya Stark, I like you indeed." She hooked her arm around Arya's. "Come, let me introduce you to the snake pit that is the Dronish Ladies, mind that you don't get bitten, some of them are quite venomous."

~~/~~

What had started as a late breakfast rolled on until it was an early lunch, and women were still chatting and eating, some of them drinking, when Arya excused herself to prepare for the wedding. She soaked in the bath for longer than she should have, but part of her wanted to delay what was coming next, it wasn't the marriage she was dreading, just the wedding. Finally she stepped out of the bath and her mother wrapped a large towel around her. Once she was dried off a robe was put around her and Ros and Ella started to weave white, black, and grey pearls into her hair. Elderflowers were added as a finishing touch. Once her hair was done Ros did her makeup, all the while Catelyn looked through the many boxes that had been piled up on the bed, frowning and muttering.

The first items that were produced from the boxes were white silk smallclothes, trimmed with lace, Catelyn was disapproving, claiming that they looked like something a whore would wear. Ros laughed at that, responding that many whores owned little, or no, underwear, considering it a waste of money and time. The finest silk stockings that Arya had ever seen came next, a very light grey and softer than anything that Arya had ever worn, white garters holding them in place. Then came linen soled white silk slippers which Catelyn declared impractical. Ella reassured that Arya would not be walking any great distance in them.

The underskirts were the first, and possibly the only item, that didn't meet with Catelyn's disapproval, although Arya disapproved, strongly, there was no way she could fight in this ridiculous garment, Arya had never worn so many petticoats in her life! The underskirt had at least a dozen layers of starched cotton to it, all bleached a perfect white. Arya watched carefully as Ros tightened the white lace that held it in place.

Ros frowned. "You know you won't be the one taking it off, right?" Ros asked carefully. "There is no way that Renly is letting you out of a bedding ceremony after everything that has happened lately."

Arya groaned. "He might." She replied hopefully.

"No, he can't afford to, and you can't afford it either." Ros replied calmly. "Trust me, it's for the best."

"She's right." Catelyn said softly, a comment which must have pained her.

Arya took a deep breath and nodded. The dress came next, Arya had never seen the finished product as only the underlay of it had been mocked up on her. She gasped as Ros and Ella carefully removed it from its large box. The underlay was white satin, and so Arya had expected the dress to be white, but she was wrong, a final layer of dove grey Myrish lace covered the entire dress. Grey pearls had been intricately stitched to adorn the bodice, the neck line was a modest square neck. The bustle felt rather bulky, but then the train was currently folded up into it, and would not be unfolded until Arya arrived at the Dragon Pit. The sleeves were tapered until about four inches down her arm, then layered daggers of grey lace and white silk dropped down from them, the final layer almost touching the ground. Ros looked at the green and blue beads around Arya's right wrist and frowned.

"That doesn't come off, it's a protection." Arya said calmly.

"Maybe we could hide it with ribbon?" Ella suggested.

"Maybe we don't." Arya replied just as firmly. "What harm is there in people seeing the charm?"

Ros frowned then nodded. "Considering the veil, none, I guess."

Arya arched an eyebrow at that. "What do you mean 'considering the veil'?"

Ros shrugged. "Robb wanted you married under a weirwood, yes?" she moved to another box and held up the veil. "This is a special commission, from Myr, it was requested months ago."

Arya's jaw dropped. The veil was exquisite, a base of grey lace, but with a weirwood carefully woven into it, the weirwood was laughing, the veil was trimmed with blue roses and direwolves. "A tribute to Lyanna." Ros said quietly.

"I… this must have cost Gendry a fortune!" Arya exclaimed.

"No," Ros said softly. "It cost _me_ a fortune, this is my wedding gift, I-"

Arya launched at Ros and hugged her tightly, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Thank you! You shouldn't have, but thank you! I'll keep it, you'll have to grab it for me if I have to submit to a bedding, but I'll keep it."

Ros hugged her back. "I think we can arrange to have it removed before the bedding." She said softly.

Catelyn cleared her throat, disturbing the moment. "Well, you seem to have this all under control." She muttered. "And clearly my opinions don't matter, a grey wedding dress, really…" she sighed. "Well, at least it's not yellow, I best go get ready and get the maiden cloak."

~~/~~

Part 80:

Arya hated waiting, but once she was ready waiting was all that she could do. Ros and Ella had gone to help Shireen get ready, leaving Arya alone with Roslin Frey, the two women sat in uncomfortable silence for a little while, then Roslin cleared her throat.

"Princess Arya?" She asked softly. "May I ask you a question?"

Arya frowned then nodded. "Yes?"

"The blue dragon, is that why you would never let me go to Dragonstone? Because of the questions it would raise?"

Arya nodded. "It's part of it." She replied.

Roslin nodded. "And the other part?"

Arya frowned, how do you tell somebody what terrible things their father never did, in a life that you remember in a dream? A life you know was real, but a life that never happened for anybody but you? "I don't trust your father." Arya answered softly.

"Ah, and so you don't trust me." Roslin said softly. "I see."

"I want to," Arya replied. "But…"

Roslin gave her a soft smile. "It's okay, Princess, I understand. I guess we are very different, I have lived a very sheltered life, and you have already lived quite a wild one, from what I hear, although surely some of it must be exaggeration. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like growing up knowing that Jon Snow was a secret Targaryen."

"I didn't grow up knowing it," Arya replied softly. "None of us did, not even Jon, Isaeyan, I… we only learnt the truth a little over a year ago. Jon took the Black believing that he was a bastard, if he had known the truth… I wish he had known sooner… I understand why father lied, but I wish Jon had known. It was terrible, you know, the way my mother treated him. And Sansa, she'd always insist on calling him _half-_ brother… that hurt him, even Robb hurt him sometimes, Robb didn't mean to, he was just repeating things that mother had taught him… I hurt him quite badly once too…"

"How?" Roslin asked softly.

"I…" Arya looked at her hands. "I was really young…" She said softly. "And you have to understand that Sansa and I did not have a very good relationship, she was always putting me down, telling me how ugly and stupid I was. Sansa is beautiful, just like mother, even Robb and Bran look more like mother than I do, even Rickon." Arya closed her eyes against the ghostly image of Roose Bolton holding Rickon's served head in one hand, Shaggy Dog's served head in the other. "I look more like Jon, so I got it into my head that I must be a bastard too, and since I'm closest with Jon, it was him I went crying to with this stupid idea." She felt a tear in her eye and quickly wiped it away. "Shit, Ros will kill me if I wreak my makeup."

"Here, let me." Roslin offered she produced a handkerchief and blotted the water away from Arya's eyes. "Your makeup is fine." She assured. "What did Jon do, when you told him you thought you were a bastard?"

"Jon is possibly the best big brother in the world." Arya replied softly. "He hugged me tightly and reassured me that I wasn't, he told me he watched my mother grow fat with me, told me how much he wanted to touch her belly and feel me kick, just like Robb was allowed to, but mother wouldn't let him… damnit." She dabbed at another tear.

Roslin gave her a soft smile and helped her dab away the tears again. "You still view him as a brother, even now, knowing he's really your cousin." She said softly.

Arya shrugged. "He's my blood, he was raised beside us, much to Mother's protests, but at important gatherings he was sent down the back. I know now that it was to protect him, but it still hurt him." Suddenly a realisation hit. "This will be the first important event in Jon's entire life that he's been allowed to sit up the front."

"We better look after him then." Roslin said softly, she frowned. "Princess Arya, will I be allowed to come to Dragonstone this time?"

"Yes." Arya agreed. "I… I'm sorry if you don't feel I've been fair to you…"

"You're trying to protect your family." Roslin replied, she smiled softly. "And with _your family_ that can be quite trying."

Arya groaned and rolled her eyes. "You have no idea." She muttered. A soft knock at the door sent Arya to her feet, Roslin went to answer it and Grey Wind almost bowled her over as he forced himself into the room, his tail wagging. "Wow," Arya muttered. "Somebody's excited."

Robb laughed as he entered the room, then he gasped. "Arya, you look beautiful!" He exclaimed.

Arya hugged him then smacked his shoulder. "Don't look so shocked." She muttered, she looked passed him. "Where's Jon?"

"Jon went ahead with Shireen, Elenei, Robar and Ros." Robb said softly. "I… let's not be too harsh on mother, she's going to have to sit at the same table as him tonight…"

"Right." Arya nodded. "Not fair on Jon though, is it?"

Robb gave her a sad look. "No." He agreed, he sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. "Come on, Princess, let's not keep them waiting any longer." He offered her his arm and Arya let him lead her out of the room.

When they reached the main courtyard the white lacquered carriage from Dragonstone was waiting, the twin pale horses seemed more appropriate than ever, their flaxen tails and manes had been brushed to shining, the one with grey markings was on the left and the one with black markings was on the right. The carriage was polished to gleaming, it's gold gilding picking up the mid-afternoon sunlight. Arya let her eyes trace out the red, gold, and black dragons as Catelyn placed the maiden cloak around her shoulders, then Catelyn was helping her, and her many petticoats, into the carriage, the white and grey of her dress spilling over the plush red velvet of the seat. Catelyn was dressed in her favourite blue dress, despite her new House colours being black on yellow, but perhaps that was a tasteful choice considering yellow and black were also the Baratheon colours?

A beautiful grey stallion, with black mane and tail, had been found for Robb, but it was clearly not a northern horse, if Arya didn't know any better she'd have said it had a bit of Sand-stead in it. (She'd have to ask Robar about that.) Four Stark guards rode ahead, then Robb, Grey Wind beside him, Stark guards surrounded them as they exited the main gate and made their way to the Dragon Pit, the roads were lined with people, all desperate for a glance of Arya, and she felt guilty about being hidden away in the carriage.

But soon enough they were at the Dragon Pit, the white carriage pulled up beside the black one and Jon met her, helping her out of the carriage. Jon was dressed much as he had been for days, but a short black surcoat with the Targaryen three headed red dragon had been added. Longclaw's white hilt shone at his side. Once he had helped Arya out of the carriage he offed his hand to Catelyn, a guarded expression on his face. Catelyn hesitated for a moment, then took his offered hand, holding his gaze as she stepped out of the carriage. Jon pulled back quickly once Catelyn's feet were on the ground and Robb was soon at their mother's side. Then Arya was being swamped by a sea of black and yellow!

Not only were Ella and Robar there, but so were Lucerys and his siblings, Cade, Aleena, and their little brother, Adam, whom was seven now. Ella wore a black dress with a yellow crowned stag front and back, Robar was dressed in black pants and a yellow shirt with a black surcoat with a yellow crowned stag front and back, it seemed that they had chosen not to hide their identities any more. Lukewas dressed to match Robar, but with a sword at his side, his sword matched those of Gendry's guards, and was even encrusted with yellow diamonds and dragon glass. Luke was almost eleven, and had just hit a growth spirt, making him almost as tall as Arya. Luke's brothers were dressed in black, Cade also sporting a sword, and Aleena was wearing a yellow dress.

Argella was there as well! Her clothing matching Ella's, and Arya noticed Mary standing back watching proudly, young Albin standing beside her and baby Arya (whom was far less of a baby now) in her arms. Arya was caught up in a flurry of hugs as Ella tried to unfold her train, grey lace over white satin, to match the rest of her dress.

"We are your train carriers." Argella announced proudly.

Arya smiled. "I'm glad." She replied as the seven foot train was unfolded from the back of her dress. "It's so long I don't know what I'd do without you."

After some final fussing Arya was finally ready. Catelyn gave her a final hug, then made her way to her seat, Mary slipped into the crowd, then Robb and Jon lead her into the main area of the Dragon pit. Jon was on her left and Robb on her right, the direwolves walked ahead of them, and Dragu was curled around Jon, but as they entered the main area Dagrau launched into the air, to be met by Dragonsteel and Opal, and the three dragons started playing above them, much to the shock and awe of many. An alter had been set up in the middle of the Pit and Gendry, Renly, and the High Septon were standing there waiting.

~~/~~

"Who gives her?" The High Septon asked.

"We do." Robb and Jon answered in unison.

Robb stepped forward. "I, Robert of House's Stark and Tully, King in the North, give her over as a maiden, and remove her maiden cloak, but Arya is a Warrior Princes, the likes of Visenya and Nymeria." He said as he removed the maiden cloak and stepped backwards.

"Which is why I, Isaeyan, of House's Stark and Targaryen, re-cloak her, in a battle cloak, that Gods and Men may see that she goes to House Baratheon complete in her own right, and that this union is about peace and unity."

Arya wasn't able to get a good look at the cloak as it was put around her shoulders, she only hoped that she would get more time to look at it later in the day. Robb and Jon lifted her veil together, each dropping a kiss on the closest cheek, then she was stepping up towards the alter, and Gendry's outstretched hand. Renly taking a couple of steps backwards to stand in line with Robb and Jon. Jon, Gendry, and Shireen called the dragons down, and then the real service began. The High Septon spoke a lot, he spoke of responsibility and unity, he droned on for so long that Arya almost missed her cue to say the words, but somehow she stumbled through it. She was overheating in the dress, and she felt off-balance, when Gendry lent in to seal the marriage with a kiss she swayed, but he pulled her close, his lips soft and gentle.

"You okay?" He whispered, still holding her.

Arya buried her head in his shoulder. "I'm too hot." She muttered. "And there's too many people, and I don't have a single weapon."

Gendry chuckled and scooped her up into his arms. "Okay, I'll carry you then." He smirked.

On any other day Arya might have argued, but today she decided to accept the comfort of his arms. She blamed the dress, how could anybody act strong and fierce under the heat and weigh of such a stupid dress? No, the dress wasn't the problem, it was the petticoats!

~~/~~


	17. Chapters 81 - 85

Part 81:

The feast was held in the Queen's ballroom, in Maegor's Holdfast, and the food was extravagant. There were long tables covered in elaborate vegetable terrine's sculpted into direwolves, stags, and dragons on the tables, there were cold-cut meats arranged elaborately on plates and large silver bowls with unrecognisable liquids in them. There were mountains of tiny delicate bread rolls and overflowing bowls of fruit, plates of exotic cheeses and platters of pickles and preserves. But perhaps the most impressive element was an incredible sculpture of custard-filled pastries, glued together with soft caramel and draped in incredibly delicate strings of spun sugar, decorated with candied wildflowers. (Gendry told her the pastry sculpture was called a Croquembouche, and that they were served at weddings in Volantis. He also told her that not a single dish had been prepared in the royal kitchens, to prevent interference from Olenna, instead, some of Driftmark's most specialised cooks had taken over the kitchens of Ros' whore houses.)

Arya and Gendry were seated in the middle of the main table, Renly to Gendry's right, Robb was to Arya's left, then her mother, surprisingly Jon had been placed on Renly's right, it was almost as if Renly was trying to claim Jon as his now that he knew they were cousins. Arya wasn't sure what to make of it all, but soon the first course was served and Arya's attention was pulled in other directions. The first course was the liquid from one of the silver bowls, a soup, served in tiny glass bowls, no larger than cups. It was a very light pear soup, with hints of sage and mint, served at room temperature with crusty sliced bread that had been cut into very small pieces and topped with a blue cheese spread. Arya thought little of the combination until her first sip of the sweet Dornish red wine.

After the pear soup a second soup was served and the bread rolls were passed around. This soup was heavier, and consisted of walnut, apple, butternut and saffron. Then the terrines started to be sliced up and sheared around the tables, along with the platters of cold meats, the pickles, cheeses, preserves and bowls of fruit. Speeches were done, first by Renly, and then by Robb, and then the entertainment started and Arya and Gendry started having to deal with the lines of well-wishes. After a while everybody but Gendry and Arya drifted away from their table.

Catelyn had moved to the table that her brother, and her consort, Ser Hugo Vance, were sitting at. Robb was talking with some Northerners, and Renly had stolen Jon away, seemingly intent on introducing him to as many nobles as possible. Arya sipped slowly at her wine and watched as Renly made a show of introducing Jon to people, Renly had the 'friendly mask' firmly in place, he'd probably have an arm around Jon's shoulder if not for Ghost and Dagrau sticking so close. Arya felt sorry for Jon, but she was also thankful, as the truth of his parentage took some of the attention off of her.

"He plays the game well." Tyrion muttered as he took the currently vacant seat beside her.

Arya nodded. "Yes, but I don't trust it."

Tyrion chuckled. "Oh, I wasn't talking about Renly. Look how calm Jon, Isaeyan, appears to be, yet look how closely his left hand clutches that dragon, your cousin is not comfortable with any of this, but he's being very civil."

"He's not used to the attention." Arya muttered softly.

"Yes, and your mother sitting there, shooting daggers at him with her eyes, can't be helping. Lady Catelyn!" Tyrion saluted his wine goblet to Catelyn, waited until he had caught her eye, then took a long draft of his wine. It was enough to tear Catelyn's gaze away from Jon for a moment, she frowned, then raised her cup in return, pressing it lightly to her lips afterwards, but Arya was sure she didn't drink anything. Tyrion chuckled, then continued to observe Jon and Renly. "You know I once told Jon to wear the name 'bastard' like armour, so that nobody could use it against him, if only I'd realised how bad that advice was at the time."

Arya shook her head. "Sounds like it was good advice at the time."

Tyrion shrugged. "Maybe, but let's just hope he doesn't apply the same logic to his new name, he needs to tread carefully. Renly is doing everything in his power to state that Jon is not a threat to him." Tyrion observed. "Just like he did with Gendry, as long as Jon plays along everything will be fine… but if he starts throwing the Targaryen name around…"

Arya glanced at her mother. "Jon knows how to tread carefully." She reassured.

Tyrion nodded. "I'm sure he does." He agreed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go see if your cousin requires rescuing… and if he'll let me pat his dragon." He smirked as he climbed off of his chair. "And no, I don't care about the possible innuendo of my last comment, I've always wanted a dragon."

Things quietened down for a while, but the lack of attention could not last. The Croquembouche was brought out and Arya and Gendry ripped through the spun sugar together to get at the first pastries, the first couple that Arya tried to remove breaking in her hand. Once she finally did remove one Renly said she couldn't eat it, instead she had to feed it to Gendry and he had to feed one to her. In the moment she couldn't stop herself from wiping some of the excess custard on his nose, Gendry responded by laughing, then grabbing her hand and licking the remaining custard off of her fingers, much to the amusement of the guests.

Once all of the guests had been given an opportunity to try some of the Croquembouche the leftover food was moved back to the long tables and the chairs and other tables were cleared to the sides of the room to make space for dancing. Arya and Gendry danced the first dance, then Gendry got to escape and Arya danced the second dance with Renly.

"I see you've decided to stop hiding the rest of my nieces and nephews from me." Renly muttered as they danced, he indicated the cluster of yellow and black which was a large portion of the Caravan of the Yellow Lady.

"I was never hiding them from you." Arya replied. "I just wasn't throwing them in your face. Besides, it was never my decision. Ella… Elenei is as headstrong as her name suggests, and Robar has never cared for a name, it was their decision to keep their parentage hidden from you, not mine. As for Lucerys… his aunt and mother wanted to wait until he was old enough to make the decision himself, after all, his sister and brothers aren't Robert's… that complicates things, better to let them all live as equals for now. As for Argella…" Arya sighed. "Her mother died when she was very little, and her sister was a beaten woman when we found them… and Berra was a baby when we found her."

Renly nodded. "I see, so you're not planning on forcing me to give any of them Storm's End?"

Arya's eyes widened in surprise. "What would ever give you a stupid idea like that?!" She exclaimed. "I… they are Gendry's family, your family as well I guess. After Loras… I… Gendry felt that you betrayed him, that you saw him simply as a bastard whom you could use for your own gain… he didn't want them to be used like that. I'm not asking you to legitimise them, although, formally acknowledging them might make the Stormlands feel a little more secure that the future of House Baratheon isn't resting solely on a Northerner's ability to produce children."

Renly studied her carefully. "Are you concerned about that?"

Arya pulled a face. "I'm trying very, very hard not to think about it." She muttered.

He gave her a compassionate smile, one that actually seemed genuine. "Your parents were both clearly very fertile," He reassured her. "And Alyssa clearly proves that Gendry inherited his father's fertility, short of a blessing from Gareth the Green Hand there are no promises, but I don't believe you have anything to worry about."

Arya swallowed thickly as Renly's words sank in. _"_ … _short of a blessing from Gareth the Green Hand…"_

 _Arya watched as her mother nodded, then frowned. "Arya, I need to ask you a question, and I need you not to get angry with me, I need you to be honest… are you pregnant? … Maester Pylos says your body is out of balance, it was him that raised the question that you might be pregnant."_

Arya felt the stabbing pain in her side again, could it be her body protesting because Gareth had blessed her, but then she hadn't acted on the blessing? Was it her delay in marrying Gendry that was the problem? She swayed and Renly caught her elbow.

"Arya? Arya, are you alright?" Renly frowned.

Arya nodded. "Yes, I… I just need to sit for a minute." She pulled a face. "These petticoats." She muttered, but she knew it wasn't just the heat of her dress that was making her sway.

~~/~~

The afternoon waned into evening and Jon and Shireen took the three dragons away, along with all of Gendry's siblings. Arya found that although she had been sipping the wine very slowly it was still starting to go to her head. The music and false pleasantries continued, then finally the bedding was called. It was almost a relief, if Arya had to fake another pleasantry she might just do something violent. She forced herself to remain calm as familiar and unfamiliar faces alike gathered around her, and hands reached to remove her dress. She sought out the faces she knew, Renly, Oberyn, the Greatjon… she focused on her breathing and tried to force herself to relax.

It was Renly that pulled the dress off of her shoulders. "You're doing well." He whispered. "You understand why this is important?" Arya nodded, and felt her heart jump in her throat as unfamiliar hands moved to the lace holding her heavy petticoats in place. She wanted the garment gone, but at the same time…

"I'll break the hands of anybody that tries anything indecent." The Greatjon promised her.

Oberyn chuckled. "You break their hands, I'll break their legs, then we'll let my paramour deal with them."

Arya looked around at the friendly faces, happy for the support, she was safe, nobody was going to do anything unwanted. She tried to force herself to believe that as her petticoats hit the ground, but a moment later Gendry started to yell.

"No! Stop! No… I can't do this! Stop touching me! Stop!" Gendry yelled.

Arya took a deep breath and looked at Renly, who's hands had just reached towards her smallclothes. "Stop." She said calmly. Renly nodded and stepped backwards, as did the other men. Arya pushed her way through the assembled men, towards the women surrounding a now flustered and angry Gendry. She ignored the comments and groping hands, treating the silk and lace of her smallclothes as armour. She pushed through the women until she was standing in front of Gendry. His top had been removed, and somebody had made an attempted to untie the lace of his pants, which seemed to be what had made him panic. She stood in front of him and touched his face, forcing him to look at her. "Gendry?" She said softly.

"I can't do this." He whispered, tears in his eyes. "I… I don't want them touching me… I… I don't want other men touching you… I… we shouldn't have to do this."

A tear rolled down his cheek and she stroked it away with her thumb. "Gendry," She said softly. "You know why the bedding is important."

Gendry lent his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "I can't…" he whispered. "I… I feel like I'm back in that tent… I don't want them to touch me… I… please, I can't."

"Oh Gendry." Arya sighed. She lent up and kissed his lips. "Look at me." She whispered. "Focus on me." Gendry did as she asked and she took a step backwards, taking his hands in hers. "I guess we're just going to have to do this our own way, just like everything else." She said softly. She took one step, then another, leading Gendry out of the ballroom.

The group of men surrounded Arya, guiding her through Maegor's Holdfast as she walked backwards, the group of women followed Gendry, yet he never took his eyes off of her. Sometimes Arya would have to pause and glance behind her, but eventually they were in the hallway that led to the room they were meant to use for the bedding. Gendry seemed calmer now, the entire procession had been quiet, almost reverent in its silence, Arya took a deep breath and let go of Gendry's hands, stepping backwards.

"Arya?" Gendry asked frowning.

Arya gave him a soft smile. "We're nearly there." She said softly. "You have to let them finish undressing you now, I have to let them finish undressing me."

"No." Gendry said firmly. "I… they can watch if they must, but nobody touches you but me. Nobody touches me but you."

Arya paused and looked towards Renly. "Is that acceptable?" She asked softly.

Renly nodded. "If it is what Gendry needs, yes."

Arya focused on Gendry, and slowly removed the last of his clothing, keeping her eyes on his face, then he finished undressing her, his hands gentle, his eyes on her face. He brushed a gentle kiss on her lips, then suddenly they were in the room. Others had followed them in, to witness the bedding, Gendry looked around at them nervously, but Arya touched his face, bringing his attention back to her.

"Look at me." She whispered. "Focus on me, nobody else is allowed to touch you, I won't let them, I promise."

He caressed her cheek. "How are you so calm?" He asked quietly.

She placed his hand over her heart, so that he could feel how much it was racing. "I'm not, but I trust you." She replied. "Nobody is going to force you to do anything, we can take this as slowly, or as quickly, as you need to."

"Gods I love you." Gendry muttered, then his lips crashed down on hers and the rest of the room seemed to fade away.

~~/~~

Part 82:

Arya awoke early, Gendry had left at some stage during the night, to retrieve Dragonsteel, and the sound of the dragon's snoring, coupled with Gendry's snoring was more than enough to wake her. She pulled a yellow silk robe around her shoulders and went to the windowsill to watch the sun rise, her mind playing over the events of the last week. It was a lot to take in… the thought that she was married was only starting to set in.

 _Arya had been practicing balancing on one foot on the main stairwell of the Tower of the Hand when her father had found her, a large book in his hands. He'd beckoned her to sit on a step beside him and they had talked. Bran was awake, he would live, but he would never walk again. Bran had been meant to come to King's Landing with them, but he'd fallen and landed in a coma instead. Arya was uncertain what Bran's future would hold, but didn't really know how to phrase her concerns, she asked if Bran would come to King's Landing now that he was awake? Father told her that he wouldn't, but that Bran could still be Lord of a Holdfast, in Robb's name, that he still had a future._

 _"Can I be a Lord of holdfast?" Arya had asked eagerly. She liked the sound of that, it sounded much better than stupid Sansa's whining about how she was going to be Joffrey's queen. Being queen sounded boring, and queen Cersei clearly wasn't very happy._

 _Her father had given her that sad smile that adults gave her when they thought that she was being silly, the same sad smile she got when she asked to be a knight, then he'd kissed her on the forehead. "You will marry a high lord, and rule his castle. Your sons shall be knights, and princes and lords." He had replied._

 _That hurt, Arya couldn't be a knight, or a prince, or a lord… she couldn't have her own future, because she was a girl, but her sons could, what about her daughters? It hurt more because it came from her father, wasn't it him that had taught her about strong Queen Visenya and brave Princess Nymeria? The smile fell from her face. "No. That's not me." She replied, disappointed that her father didn't understand her. She stood up and went back to her place on the step, back to her practice. She would show her father how strong she was, she would show everybody._

Arya felt a tear drift down her cheek, had she betrayed the brave young girl of the other life? Had she taken the easy path? Dragonsteel snorted in his sleep, drawing her attention to where he was curled up in the middle of the floor. No, this was not an easy path. Her gaze moved to Gendry, yes, he was a high lord, now… but he hadn't always been, and that wasn't why she had married him. Yes, her sons would be knights, and princes and lords, but not because she was defined by her husband. No, she had married Gendry because winter was coming and they needed the unity and resources… and because she loved him. The child that she had been didn't understand the importance of such unions, the woman that she was now, not quite fourteen, but a maid flowered and wed, was in some ways more mature than the eighteen year old self that had stood in front of the weirwood and scarified everything for a second chance, she knew she would not get a third.

She had chosen a different path, the option to go to Bravos and join the Faceless Men had still been offered, she had refused it. In the first life she had been fighting for her own survival, she had been a lone wolf, and she had failed. Now she had to fight for everybody's survival, winter was a few years away, and no matter how hard she tried Arya struggled to believe that they would be ready for it. For everything that she had achieved she still hadn't found an answer on how to actually defeat the Night King. Arya resolved that when they returned to Dragonstone she would commit the next few months to searching through the Dragonstone libraries, Rhaegar's study… anything that might help. Maybe… Maybe she should even transcribe another copy of Unnatural History, and gift it to the Maester's of Old Town, in hopes of opening a dialogue? She would have to talk to Maester Pylos on that. Yes, she was still fighting, she had just gained a wider battery of weapons.

Happy in her conclusions, Arya left the window just as the last traces of sunrise faded from the sky and decided to slip back into bed. As she returned to the covers Gendry instinctively wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close… maybe she could use a little more sleep?

~~/~~

Arya and Gendry could only hide in their room for so long, they had broken their fast in the privacy of their room, the food delivered by a hesitant Roslin Frey, but Arya's hand maiden had also made it clear that she would be returning in an hour to help ready Arya for morning tea… there was no escaping the social obligations. Arya and Gendry had made the most of that last hour of peace, and very little of that time had been spent eating. Arya was flushed and blushing when Roslin returned, Gendry having barely put his pants on before the knock on the door. Gendry dressed quickly, then left them be, Arya blushing and Roslin smiling gently all the while.

"The wedding night went well then?" Roslin muttered as Gendry and Dragonsteel left the room.

"Ah… yes." Arya replied. "Whom am I having morning tea with again?"

"Oh, just a couple of dozen highborn ladies that have travelled far for your wedding." Roslin replied. "I guess we could always snub them…?"

Arya nearly choked on her fruit juice. "Now wouldn't that be a way to start a war?" She muttered. "Do I get any choice in the dress?"

"No," Roslin replied, seemingly amused. "Ella and Mhaegen will be in with it shortly, they're just adding finishing touches."

Arya raised an eyebrow. "A new dress?" She sighed. "Whatever makes Ella happy."

Ella was smirking when the clothing was brought into the room, Arya's things were still in Elia's room as these were temporary quarters. Arya was first presented with a grey chiffon shirt, much in the same style as her yellow one. It even had the same dragon glass buttons on the sleeves, but the lace trim and drop sleeves matched that of her wedding dress and veil. Black loose fitting charmeuse pants came next, then came the new dress.

It didn't turn out to be a new dress, however, so much as an old dress, re-worked. Ella had taken the dress that Catelyn had made Arya for Robb's coronation, a dress that no longer fit Arya's more womanly figure, and completely restyled it, whilst retaining many of the old elements. The 'dress' was more in line with the 'dress' that Arya had worn when Shireen and Gendry's dragons had been revealed. The top of the two crossing front panels was the black panel that had been the back of the old dress, complete with the carefully stitched yellow leaping direwolf, and extra black fabric had been artfully added to the bottom half of the 'dress', more of a long vest. Just like Ella's last creation of this manner this dress had nine ties from bust to mid-thigh, at which point the dress spread away from the front of her legs giving her free movement and revelling the silk pants. Even the carefully embroidered hems of the old dress had been salvaged, the blue roses and playing direwolves trimming the bottom of the dress perfectly. Once Arya's weapons and jewelled armour were in place Ella produced the battle cloak, but before it could be placed around Arya's shoulders Arya stopped her, wanting to have a better look at it.

The cloak was a dark grey, with a Weirwood dominating its centre, the Weirwoods face was stern. A sword rested against the left of the tree, and looked very much like Arya's sword. A shield was hung on one of the right branches with a laughing weirwood on it. Six wolf pups were cuddled together at the base of the tree, and Arya felt tears well up in her eyes as her fingers ran over the representation of Shaggy Dog. The direwolf representing Grey Wind wore the Crown of Winter, and the one representing Ghost held a blue rose in its mouth. As Arya kept looking she saw more and more, there was a kestrel hidden in the Weirwoods branches, and some branches seemed to form the shape of a leaping trout, other branches seemed to take the shape of a dragon. Arya eventually pulled her hand away and allowed Ella to put the cloak on her. She stood in front of a long mirror and looked at herself, trying to decide what she thought of the contrast of femininity and strength.

"You look beautiful." Roslin reassured.

"You look fierce." Ella added immediately. "Fierce and beautiful, but neither one excuses keeping your guests waiting."

Arya nodded and tore herself away from the mirror, she forced a smile on her face and prepared to do battle, Smalltalk was her weakest weapon, she needed the practice… of course, if she failed there were always her blades…

Catelyn was the first to great Arya, and she gushed over the dress, oh, it wasn't her style, or something that she would have ever made, but she appreciated the care with which her work had been reworked… might have been nice to have been consulted though. And why couldn't Arya ever wear a normal dress? Just once? She was a married woman now, she would need to move away from such flamboyant clothing… Arya fought not to grimace, she tried to take on the positive words and ignore the negative digs that seemed to be habitual from her mother. Allyria approached in an attempt to rescue her, the Dornish beauty seemed unaware of the dangers as she introduced herself to Catelyn.

"Allyria _Dayne_?" Catelyn questioned, looking the younger woman from head to toe.

"Yes." Allyria replied with a smile. "Ashara's baby sister."

"Sister." Catelyn muttered, her eyes narrowing. "And how old are you?"

Allyria's smile became a smirk. "Young enough to raise questions, but old enough to have heard all of the rumours that people whom enjoy scandals come up with. Yes, I _am_ Ashara's sister, not her daughter, no, I was not conceived at Harrenhal, no, I am not a Sand, and no, I am not half Stark. Although it does raise the question, doesn't it? If I _were_ Ashara's daughter, and if I _were_ half Stark, would I be Brandon's or Eddard's?"

"Brandon's." Arya replied without thinking. "Although Brandon had no interest in Ashara until she showed interest in my father."

"How can you be so sure?" Allyria challenged.

"Because a Weirwood showed me." Arya replied confidently. "I've watched Uncle Brandon watch my father dance with Ashara, and I've heard Ashara's last words before she threw herself to her death. She cursed the name Brandon Stark, then cursed herself for not choosing 'sweet Ned' before throwing herself to her death, her dead daughter clutched in her arms."

All of the challenge seemed to seep out of Allyria. "Thank you," She whispered. "All of my life I've doubted… you hear rumours enough times you wonder if there is truth to them. Forgive me, Lady Catelyn… I… the next time you have doubt over anything follow your daughter's advice, ask a Weirwood, I know I will."

"I hear there aren't many Weirwoods in Dorne." Catelyn replied coolly.

Allyria shook her head. "No, there aren't, but since my betrothed has forsaken me, and his titles, to run a band of brigands, perhaps I should make a Keep with a Weirwood a requirement in any future betrothal?"

Catelyn did not smile at Allyria's reply. "Do as you wish, Lady Dayne, come, Arya, you have many guests to attend to." Arya gave Allyria an apologetic smile and let her mother lead her away.

~~/~~

Late-afternoon was high tide, and Jon, Shireen, and many of Gendry's siblings took a ship back to Dragonstone, Renly had insisted on them being given a royal send off. Renly had controlled the entire display, even manoeuvring himself into a position which forced Jon to give him a farewell hug before embracing Robb. Jon and Gendry had stuck to a firm handshake, and then Gendry was hugging Shireen and Jon was wrapping his arms around Arya tightly.

"I'll see you soon." Jon muttered as he pulled back and dropped a light kiss on Arya's forehead. "Don't start any wars."

Arya pulled a face as he pulled back. "You and Robb always say that." She muttered.

Jon shrugged. "Yes, well… We always mean it. Let Renly handle the Tyrell situation, he knows them better, and he's the King."

"Yes, I am." Renly agreed, stepping into the conversation. "And, as long as we're in agreement on that, I see no problems." Renly placed a light hand on Jon's shoulder. "Here, cousin, let me walk you to your ship."

"Yes, cousin." Jon replied calmly, then his expression became serious. "It must have been difficult for you, having so little family growing up." He said softly. "I mean, I may have been raised believing I was a bastard, but I had Robb, and Arya, and Bran… I had Uncle Eddard."

"You are very much like your uncle…" Renly replied as they walked away, the rest of the conversation lost to Arya. At the ramp of the boat they embraced again, this second embrace seeming more genuine.

As Arya watched the ship pull away she realised she felt slightly envious of Jon's ability to escape. There were still a few more social events before Arya could retreat to the relative quiet of Dragonstone, before Robb could return home to his surviving daughter and grieving wife. Arya wondered how Sansa was. Aurane's instructions had been to give her a choice of Riverrun or White Harbor, if she chose White Harbor she would stay under the care of House Manderly until Robb's return, if she chose Riverrun Aurene's ship would get them as far as the Salt Pans, then they would need to arrange a smaller boat. Arya pondered which decision her sister would have made as they returned to the Red Keep.

~~/~~

Part 83:

Arya begrudgingly suffered her way through the final feast, she tried to maintain conversations and smile politely at false pleasantries, but she was distracted. Tomorrow she and Gendry would leave for Dragonstone on the morning tide, Robb, and the handful Northers that had remained, would leave with them, to make their way back towards White Harbor, and eventually their respective Keeps. Catelyn would go north with Robb, to meet her granddaughter, Bryn, for the first time, and to pay her respects at Pearl's grave.

Arya wished the feast would end, she'd had more social engagements over the last couple of weeks than she could tolerate, and had retreated to Alyssa and the nursery more and more over the last few days in search of an escape (often to find that Gendry and was already hiding there) thankfully all of the formalities were almost over. Luckily less people seemed interesting in talking to her tonight, all of the attention seemed to be on Robb, Lords taking their last opportunity to gain favour with the departing King, and Ladies… well simply looking for an opportunity. Robett Glover and Larence Hornwood were staying close to Robb, Larence was unwed, and a recently made lord, or maybe some of the women hoped to become Robb's mistress and eventually push Wynafryd aside?

Arya studied the rings on her fingers as the evening drifted on, her left hand bore two rings now, a signet ring of black iron with bronze twisted through the band, a wedding gift from Robb, sat on the forth finger of her left hand. It was cleverly detailed, a woman with a sword and a rampant direwolf standing back to back, the Crown of Winter floated above them and Firstman runes encircled them, framing the outer edge. It was perfectly Northern, bronze and iron were the metals of winter, dark and strong to fight against the cold, it had taken Arya a few practices to learn how to use the seal correctly. The third finger on her left hand held her wedding ring. Gendry claimed that Inanna had insisted that was the correct finger for it.

The idea of a wedding ring was still odd to Arya, but Gendry wanted wedding rings, so who was she to argue? The ring was very beautiful. It was set with a large oval stone in the middle, but the stone was quite flat, almost like a signet ring, and she could still wear a glove, or a gauntlet, with it. It was a yellow diamond, of course. It was inset into a tapered band of Dragonsteel, and fit perfectly. Small chips of black dragon glass were set on either side of it. Gendry wore his ring on the same finger, his ring was similar, but his diamond was more of a rectangular cut with the corners rounded, and the band of his ring was wider. Arya frowned as she looked closely at Gendry's hand, she caught his hand as he released his cup, looking at the signet ring on his fourth finger. "That's new." She muttered.

Gendry smiled at her. "Well I can't really have the same as King Renly, now, can I?"

Arya nodded and traced the ring, it was forged of Dragonsteel of course, it had the Baratheon crowned stag, but it had a hammer and anvil between the stag's antlers. Arya frowned. "And how does Renly feel about that?"

Gendry shrugged. "I haven't asked, and he hasn't commented." He replied. "But I don't see why he would have any problem with it, smithing is part of my identity, and I'm sure that in his eyes it says that I'm less than him." He reached over and grabbed her left hand with his right one, running his thumb over her signet ring. "I like that." He said quietly. "I like that you have your own signet ring, and I like that it was Robb that gave it to you." He dropped a kiss on her hand then released it. "You don't want to be here, do you?"

Arya sighed. "No." She replied honestly.

Gendry nodded, he let his gaze move to Renly, whom was in the middle of an animated conversation with a number of high lords, including Mace Tyrell. "I think we've met the requirements of curtesy." He said softly, then pushed himself to his feet and cleared his throat. "If you'll all excuse us," he said in a very loud voice. "I'll be steeling my wife away now, I'm sure many of you are still enjoying the feast, but, as you well know, I am not a drinker, and there is nothing here that will satisfy my appetite." He let his eyes met Arya's and there was something in the intensity of his gaze that made her want to blush. He caught her hand again, brushed a gentle kiss on the back of it, then pulled her to her feet. "Well, nothing but you." He said in a husky voice.

Arya did blush then, how could she not? She caught the inside of her right lower lip with her teeth, least she open her mouth and say something stupid. Suddenly everybody around them seemed to fade away, oh, she heard Renly in the distance, protesting that the night was still young, and Tyrion made some cheeky quip… but the way Gendry was looking at her, the feel of her hand in his… he cupped her face gently with his free hand and pulled her into a kiss. She let her eyes drift shut as he pulled her close, she didn't care that she was being 'unladylike'… the kiss lasted longer than it should have, for a public action, and a number of people were clearing their throats uncomfortably when the kiss finally ended, but she didn't care. All she could think of was that tomorrow they would be sailing back to Dragonstone. One more night, she told herself, if they could just get through this one night without something drastic happening, then they'd be able to have a little bit of peace. Yes, winter was coming, but it was still a few years away, all Arya wanted right now was for her, Alyssa, and Gendry to be a family for a bit. And if they gave Alyssa a younger sibling or two… well, nothing wrong with that. As long as Arya made sure she wasn't pregnant when winter started she'd be able to fight. The thought of being a mother no longer scared her, after all, she was _already_ a mother.

All of these thoughts passed through her mind as Gendry began to lead her away from the feast… maybe that was why she didn't notice the commotion at first? One moment she was letting Gendry lead her away from the tables, the next moment she was looking at soft grey fur, yellow eyes steering back at her. "Lady." She whispered. She reached out a hand on instinct, and Lady allowed herself to be patted. To Arya's surprise there was no collar or leash to block her hand. "Lady, why are you here?" Arya whispered. "Where's Sansa?"

"I'm here, sister." Sansa called out.

Arya turned her head and her jaw dropped. Sansa was there alright, dressed in soft greys, her red hair had been brushed until it shone. Stark men flanked her, and Aurane and Galan were somewhat to the side, both giving Arya apologetic looks. Somehow Sansa looked taller, she was standing straight and proud, something which she had not done in some months, she looked confidant again. She had baby Olenn calmly resting on her hip and Saia stood a couple of steps behind her.

"Sansa?" Robb said softly, taking a couple of steps in her direction. "What are you doing here?"

Sansa turned and met Robb's gaze. "I'm ready to go home." She said calmly.

Robb frowned. "I sent you home."

"No," Sansa replied. "You wanted me to go to White Harbor and wait for you, then go back to Winterfell, or failing that, to go to Riverrun, but that's not my home. I will always be a Stark, and a Princess of the North, but my son is the heir to Highgarden. I will not have his inheritance stolen away from him simply because my sensibilities were affronted." She turned her attention to Lord Mace. "Good Father, I was upset and confused at the revelation of Alyssa's parentage and the events which led to her conception, I needed some time to process everything, but so did you. I should have been there for you, instead I ran away like a scared little child, can you forgive me?"

Mace Tyrell looked shocked. "I…" he stuttered. "Of course I will… I… are you really going to let my grandson come h-home?"

Sansa gave him a gentle smile. "Yes." She replied and took a step towards him. "You have lost both a son and a daughter, I will not steel you grandson away from you, and I will encourage my sister not to deprive you of your granddaughter, would you like to hold Olenn?"

Mace's face seemed to crumble at the question and a tear escaped his eye. "Would you allow that?" He asked softly, taking a couple of hesitant steps towards Sansa.

"Will you allow me to come home?" Sansa questioned.

"Yes, of course child, yes." Mace replied. He crossed the last few steps and Sansa held out Olenn. Mace peppered the child with kisses and held him close, more tears running down his cheeks, then he offered a tentative hand to Sansa, she embraced him and he held her close. "Thank you." He whispered. "Thank you."

What the seven hells was Sansa doing? Had she lost her mind?! Arya wanted to stride right over there, snatch Olenn out of Mace's hands and slap some sense into Sansa, but Lady was blocking her path…

"Sansa, are you sure this is what you want?" Robb asked uncertainly as Sansa stepped back from Mace's embrace.

"Yes," Sansa replied calmly. "It makes no more sense for me to run back to Winterfell, at the revelation of my late husband's actions, than it would have made for our mother to run back to Riverrun, with you, upon seeing Jon already established in the Winterfell nursery. What Margaery and Loras did was wrong, and it hurt a lot of people, but Lord Mace is not to blame for his children's choices."

"My King, my brother by law," Wylla Manderly interjected. "I agree with Princess Sansa, but may I make a few harsh observations? You were a new king, and somewhat naive, when our beloved Princess Sansa was wed to Ser Loras, you treated it like a marriage between a Lord and a Lady, but Sansa Stark is not a Lady, she is a Princess. She should have been provided with an appropriate entourage and guard, just as Princes Arya was."

"Arya wasn't married when I sent her south." Robb argued.

Wylla flicked her green dyed hair over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing. "Do you plan to steal Princess Arya's guards off of her now that she is married?" She challenged.

"No… I…" Robb stammered. "Arya is a fighter, Sansa is not…"

"All the more reason why she needs good guards, and Northern women, around her." Wylla replied. "If our Princess is to return to Highgarden you need to correct your mistake, my King, let her keep the guards you gave her, it's not right that you have given one sister an entourage and not the other. Allow me to take up the role of first handmaiden, and I will arrange a suitable entourage befitting the **_First Princess of House Stark_** _._ " She did not pause long enough for Robb to respond. "Uncle Wendel, I shall require a dozen guards for my personal entourage, as well as my servants and handmaidens, and I ask that upon your return to White Harbor you petition grandfather on my behalf to have Ser Marlon sent to me, that is, of course, if Princess Sansa will accept my service."

"I would be honoured." Sansa replied.

This was madness! Had everybody lost their minds? Arya tried again to get around Lady, but Lady continued to calmly block her path. Arya turned her attention to Robb, was he really going to let this happen? And what was Wylla Manderly playing at? Did she really think a few dozen guards would be enough to protect Sansa from Olenna? Did Sansa not realise that Olenna would be returning with them?! Yet Robb did not argue! No, no! This wasn't happening! After everything that they had done to make Sansa and Olenn safe! How could Sansa be so stupid?! What did she think she was doing?! Why was everybody okay with this?! Arya looked at Gendry. "We have to do something." She whispered.

But Gendry just gave her a sad look. "We can't make her choices," He said softly. "And I've been rather unsuccessful in talking Stark women out of bad ideas so far."

"What? So we just let her go?" Arya hissed.

"Unless you want to start a war, yes." Gendry agreed. "But I can do something." He raised his voice. "Princess Sansa, your sister is very protective of you, and she doesn't believe it is a good idea for you to return to Highgarden just yet. As King Robb has pointed out, you are not a fighter, like her, and she believes Lady Olenna means you harm." He took a couple of steps away from Arya and towards Sansa, Arya noticed that Lady let him pass but continued to block her. "You are now my sister by law, that makes your safety my concern, I'm sure that my uncle will support me in my next words: Any act of violence against you will be considered an act of war, not only against the King in the North, but against the Iron Throne. Lord Mace, if any misfortune should befall Princess Sansa or baby Olenn, even by accident, I shall hold you personally accountable, and your lands shall be forfeit, do you understand?"

Mace Tyrell swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yes… my Prince." He replied.

"Good, good." Renly interjected, he seemed to want to put an end to the conversation quickly. "I would rather not have to take your lands from you," he gave a nervous laugh. "But Gendry is right, Princess Sansa's safety is the concern of the Iron Throne."

Mace nodded and stood taller. "My mother will not be a problem." He promised.

Renly smiled, the friendly mask firmly in place. "Good, it's settled then, Princess Sansa, Gendry and Arya were just leaving, but will you join us in the feast? It seems there is much to discuss, and perhaps we can find you a couple of other new handmaidens before the night is through?"

Arya watched in shock as Renly put an arm around Sansa and led her to a chair. Finally Lady stepped out of Arya's path, but what could she do? She frowned, Sansa seemed different somehow, more confidant…

Aurane and Galan, quietly crossed the room, Saia behind them. "I tried to talk her out of it," Aurane muttered apologetically as they approached. "But once her mind is made up… well let's just say I see the family resemblance now."

"What changed?" Gendry asked, frowning.

"Jon." Galan answered softly. "Isaeyan, she was very angry that she hadn't been told, the news spread like crazy as soon as Renly acknowledged him. We got Sansa as far as Driftmark, but she refused to go any further. Then Jon and Shireen's ship stopped at Driftmark on the way back to Dragonstone… you could almost hear her yelling from the port! Then she mopped for a couple of days… then this morning she woke up and calmly demanded we bring her back, we tried to talk some sense into her, but then her direwolf started growling at us… we… we didn't know what else to do, so we did as she asked."

"She's being stupid!" Arya declared.

"Maybe," Gendry agreed. "Or maybe she knows exactly what she's doing, come on, this isn't the place to talk about it."

He took her arm gently and again started leading her away from the feast, Aurane, Galan, and Saia following.

~~/~~

Gendry and Dragonsteel watched as Arya paced the length of the bedchamber, every time she passed Dragonsteel his tail would twitch, Aurane and Galan were long gone. Monford had come and gone, so had Edmure, and Tyrion. Each of them said that she had to let Sansa make her own decisions and trust her. Tyrion seemed to think that Sansa was actually being politically cleaver, and that it was a very savvy move. House Tyrell controlled the most fertile region of the seven kingdoms, come winter, those crops would be sorely needed.

A knock on the door caused Arya to stop pacing, she glared at the door and held her breath. Gendry sighed, rose to his feet, and went to see whom it was, he barely had the door half open before Grey Wind shoved his way through and ran over towards Dragonsteel, Robb followed after, looking apologetic. He frowned at Arya, whom was still in her dress, then raised an eyebrow. "Not planning on sleeping then?" He asked carefully.

"Just be grateful that I've stopped her from putting her armour and weapons on so far." Gendry answered with a sigh.

Robb nodded, crossed the space between them, and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Arya," He said softly. "Don't be angry with Sansa, she believes she is doing the right thing."

"She's being stupid." Arya snapped.

Robb gave her a half smile. "More stupid than running away from father in the dead of night, without any explanation, from a boat halfway between here and Dragonstone?" He challenged.

"That was different." Arya defended. "I knew Father wouldn't listen, and Gendry's life was in danger."

"And insisting on leading the Cregan Strike?" Robb questioned.

"It was our best chance of success." Arya replied defiantly.

Robb didn't back down. "Running away from the Crannogmen, and Father, to take on the Dreadfort alone?"

Arya rolled her eyes. "I wasn't alone." She argued.

Robb sighed. "Sansa may not fight with a weapon, but she's no fool… I don't agree with her choices, but her logic is as irrefutable as yours, she understands that winter is coming, food will be scarce, especially if the threat is as bad as you say. Sansa believes this is the only way she can help, we have to trust her, and be ready to help if she needs us. You live a lot closer than I do, in a few moons time, take Alyssa to Highgarden and go check on Sansa."

"I don't want to take Alyssa to Highgarden." Arya protested sullenly.

"Arya, please." Robb said softly. "Peace is harder than war, sometimes we have to make compromises… Mace is Alyssa's grandfather, you've worked so hard to make the Realm love her, the Reach is part of the Realm, I'm not asking you to do this as your brother, I'm asking as your King."

Arya felt her lip tremble, Robb had never asked anything of her as her King before. "I…" she stuttered.

Robb released her shoulders and took a step backwards. "Will you deny your King?" He asked carefully.

Arya shook her head. "No." She replied.

Robb nodded. "Good, now, will you hug your brother?"

Arya nodded, she flung her arms around Robb and hugged him tightly. "What if I can't protect her?" She sobbed into his shoulder.

Robb smoothed her hair. "Oh, Arya, that's not your job, that's my job." He said softly. "If I fail… then it will be your job to deliver justice in my name."

"Don't fail then." Arya muttered.

Robb kissed her forehead and released her. "I won't fail if you help me keep the peace with Mace Tyrell." He replied. "Don't keep his granddaughter from him."

"I won't." Arya promised.

Robb nodded. "Try and get some sleep." He advised. "Trust Sansa… but there is little harm in us all riding out in full armour tomorrow."

Arya nodded and hugged herself tightly as Robb left. Once he was gone Gendry approached her and wrapped his arme s around her, she leant back into him, taking comfort in his embrace. "Robb's right, you need some sleep." He said softly. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Arya and Gendry changed in silence, Arya climbed into bed first, Gendry blowing out the last candle before joining her. She snuggled into his warmth and he wrapped his arm around her, it seemed that sleep would not come. Yet one moment she was listening to Gendry's heartbeat as his breathing evened out, and the next moment it was morning.

~~/~~

Part 84:

Dragonstone was a change of pace to King's Landing, everything happened slower here. Yes, there were the day to day concerns, but the mines pretty much ran themselves, and, whatever initial conflict there may have been between the Freefolk and the common people, things seemed rather peaceful. Gendry and Dragonsteel spent four hours every day at the forge, and Arya usually spent that time reading, whether it was trying to sort Rhaegar's study, a task which both Jon and Gendry had failed at, or looking through the tomes that Maester Pylos had brought to her attention, she read everything and anything in search for answers for the war to come.

Returning to Dragonstone had also meant a reunion with the kestrel, Arryn, he still lingered in Aegon's garden, and Arya visited him often. Thankfully Ella had allowed Arya's wardrobe to become less formal, her hair was done in simpler styles and her clothing, whist still impressive, was more relaxed. Arya spent her days trying to get to know the servants better, or spending time with Gendry's siblings and Lucerys' family. Sometimes she would swim at Dreamer's cove. She doted on Eldrick, as any aunt should, and spent hours simply watching Alyssa play. Yes, the threat of winter still loomed over her, but it seemed suddenly less urgent.

Gendry held court twice a week in the great hall, the building was impressive, it was shaped like a dragon, the main doors were set into its mouth, it even had a built in throne! The throne screamed Valyrian arrogance, but Gendry did not use it, he had set up a plain wooden table at the base of the dais, with simple wooden chairs, and Jon, Ser Davos, Maester Pylos, and Arya would sit beside him as equals during court. The table and chairs were much akin to what was used at Winterfell, and Arya suspected it had been Jon's idea. It might have appeared rather humble, if not for the direwolf and two dragons in the room, three whenever Shireen decided to join them. Sometimes Arryn would find Arya as she made her way there, and spend the entire time on her shoulder. What visiting nobles and traders thought of their little menagerie was anybody's guess.

Aurane, at least, seemed to find it all quite amusing, due to the closeness of the two islands Aurane was always coming and going, he'd just sail in and say for days at a time, sometimes bringing his nephew, Monterys, with him. Aurane tried to help with Rhaegar's study, but he soon admitted that it was a disorganised mess, and he lacked the discipline to sort through what Rhaegar had accumulated over twenty-odd years. He'd pick up a journal here or there, and start flicking through them, but he usually ended up sitting quietly chatting with Roslin in the corner. But one day, whist Arya was frowning over a cryptic journal which appeared to have been penned by Tyanna of the Tower, Aurane to start reading aloud from the journal in his hands.

"Winterfell is a strange castle," Aurane read spontaneously. "Much of it is very plain, and purposefully built. The only exception to this is the First Keep, whose gargoyles remind me of Dragonstone, and the crypts, which remind me of Storm's End. The land is sprawling and uneven, and the buildings have been built around the landscape (much as Storm's End was built to work with the challenges of its sounding environment) instead of trying to stand opposed to it. It is easy to believe Rogar Baratheon's claims that they were built by the same hand. The castle is vast, and well-fortified, with enclosed covered bridges between many of the buildings, yet they seem to hold no weapons that can take down dragons. I found Ayrmidon's text amongst their library, a rear complete translation, but they do not seem aware of the weapon they possess. I have quietly moved the text to their restricted area, it would be wrong to take it, yet nothing obligates me to bring it to their attention. I have no doubt in my mind now that we must proceed with our plan to garner support from the Night's Watch, once Jaehaerys arrives I will discuss putting it into action with him." Aurane paused. "Interesting," He muttered. "It seems 'Good Queen Alysanne' may have been more cleaver than good. Shall I continue?"

Arya carefully bookmarked her page and put her book down, she let her gaze move to Roslin, who looked totally enthralled, Roslin was resting one arm on the table, her chin in her hand. Roslin looked totally content, Queen Alysanne's journal might not be what Arya had been looking for, but it was interesting, and there was no harm in reading it. Aurane had a lovely reading voice, and Arya had to admit that she was getting sick of squinting at Tyanna of the Tower's tiny handwriting, it was nice to be read to for a change. "If you want." She replied.

Aurane nodded, took a sip of wine, and continued to read. "The godswood is beautiful, and I understand why Lord Alaric has asked firmly, but politely, that I do not permit Silverwing to wander there. It is a very old wood, part of the old forest, they say. It is full of stubborn Sentinel trees, armoured in grey-green needles, ancient Ironwoods, mighty Oaks, and clusters of Weirwoods. Twisted branches entwine like a lovers embrace above, creating a mini climate and keeping warmth within. As much as Silverwing would love it she would have to break some of the canopy, or burn it, to make her way down safely, and even then, she would lack the space to move around. Thick black trunks, hundreds (or even thousands) of years old, crowd together, their misshapen roots wrestling for space beneath the soil. The only exception to this is the wood's crowning glory, the Heart Tree. It is a Weirwood of unimaginable age and spender, a black pool of cold water, depth unknown, at it's feet." Aurane's stomach suddenly rumbled loudly. "Oh dear," He muttered, somewhat embarrassed. "Perhaps we should stop for lunch? It is after one."

"Why don't we take the journal to Aegon's Garden, and find ourselves some lunch along the way?"Roslin suggested. "It's a lovely day, we could see if some of the children want to join us, and make a picnic of it." She blushed slightly as she made the suggestion, causing Arya to raise an eyebrow, but Aurane rewarded Roslin with an easy going smile, caught her free hand, and brushed a gentle kiss over the back of it, causing her blush to deepen.

"That sounds lovely," He said softly. "Princess Arya, what do you think? Shall we go read outside in the sun? Or would you prefer to stay inside these dreary stone walls?" He challenged, smirk firmly in place.

"That depends…" Arya replied, "Were you planning on dropping Roslin's hand anytime soon? Or I do I need to be having a conversation with your brother in regards to your intentions towards my hand maiden?"

"I… ah…" It was Aurane's turn to blush, but to his credit he kept hold of Roslin's hand. "Why don't we discuss that over lunch?"

Arya nodded. "I'll go get Alyssa, and see who else wants to join us, why don't you two go arrange the picnic? I think under the Elder tree would be a good spot." Aurane agreed, and he and Roslin left the room hand in hand, just as they were leaving Arya called after him. "Aurane,"

"Yes, Princess?"

"Stone walls are sturdy, not dreary, they offer sanctuary, protection… only dreary people find them dreary."

Aurane laughed. "Spoken like a descendant of Bran the Builder, when winter comes I'm sure I'll agree with you, but it is summer still."

~~/~~

Gendry chuckled and sipped at his chamomile tea. "So, you really only just realised that Roslin was the reason Aurane's visits had become more frequent today?" He asked with amusement.

Arya glared at him. "I'm not good with that stuff, okay?" She muttered. She moved further back into her chair, her arm nudging Alysanne's journal.

Gendry gestured towards the book. "Anything interesting in that?"

Arya shrugged. "It's strange to read about my family home from a stranger's perspective, and it's interesting to read about Alaric from her perspective, most talk about him as a hard man, unforgiving and fugal… but she seemed to like him, and I'd forgotten that his wife was a Mormont. She writes a lot about his daughter, Alarra, as well…" Arya frowned.

"What?" Gendry asked.

Arya shrugged. "It's probably nothing…"

"But?"

Arya shook her head. "You have to remember that this is being written by a dragon-riding Targaryen, but, Alysanne makes a big point about Silverwing liking Alarra, she often refers to Alarra as a 'blue rose', but at one point she notes that Alarra's father referred to her a ' _Bael_ -rose', and said that one was born in every generation of Stark's."

Arya watched as Gendry's brows knitted together in confusion. "A _Bael-_ rose, what's that?"

Arya shrugged. "I've no idea, Alysanne ponders on it for a paragraph or so, before concluding that it must be something about her wildness… Alarra wasn't exactly your typical lady apparently."

Gendry smile at her. "So, you're the _Bael-_ rose of your generation, and I guess, your Aunt Lyanna must have been a _Beal-_ rose was well… I wonder…" He put down his Chamomile tea and went searching one of his bookshelves, he soon came back with the book Arya had given him, **History of the Greater and Lesser Houses**. "Do you think if we went through every generation of Stark in this book we could pinpoint the _Bael-_ rose of each?"

Arya put down her tea. "We could try, but I don't know what that proves?"

Gendry shrugged. "Neither do I, but we know Rhaegar cared a lot about prophecy, and that journal was in Rhaegar's study… this seems like the next thing he would have done after reading that… I've always wondered why the Crown of Love and Beauty at the Harrenhal Tourney was made of blue winter roses, it was almost as if he was trying to get Lyanna's attention even before he met her…"

That made a lot of sense. "Lyanna was the only female Stark of her generation, and father once said she had the 'wolf-blood'…" She agreed.

"What about the generation before?" Gendry asked softly.

Arya frowned. "My grandparents were cousins, kind of, my grandmother's cousin was my grandfather's father…"

Gendry nodded and studied the book. "That happens in big families, I think given their ages we can call your grandparents the same generation, Edwyle may have been Lyarra's cousin, but he was old enough to be her father, interesting, why was your grandfather an only child?"

Arya shrugged. "I don't know, why was yours?"

Gendry rolled his eyes. "Targaryen inbreeding, most likely, most family trees have _branches_."

They spent the next couple of hours going over Arya's family tree, trying to work out who the Bael-roses were. Sometimes, like with Lyanna, it was easy, but at with some Arya had to rely on her knowledge of the histories, and on the stories told to her by Old Nan. Her grandmother, Lyarra, had clearly been more wild that her older sister, Branda… Gendry got parchment and ink, and started taking notes, trying to look for patterns, but nothing seemed to match. Sometimes a Bael-rose was a daughter of a Bael-rose, sometimes they weren't, sometimes they died young, sometimes they didn't…

"It's as erratic as the change of seasons!" Arya finally muttered in frustration.

"That's it!" Gendry muttered.

"What's it?" Arya frowned.

"Every Bael-rose is a summer child, you were born in 289AC, right?" Arya nodded. "The Maester's declared 289AC the start of True Summer, I remember because it was the year my mother died. Your Aunt Lyanna was born in 266AC… I bet the Citadel declared that the beginning of True Summer… I bet we can match a female Stark to the start of True Summer going back over a thousand years… I gods! Hang on a minute…"

Arya just looked at Gendry in shock as he rushed into Rhaegar's study. "Where did I put it?" He muttered. "Arya, have you moved any of the papers from the top left draw?"

"No," Arya replied, following him. "Why would you start with the draws when there is so much on the desk?"

"Because anything important should be easy to find, found it!" He emerged triumphantly with a sheet of parchment in his hands, it had the official dates of the change of each season from 300BC to 281AC.

Lyanna had indeed been born in the first year of Summer, as had Lyarra… Alarra Stark lined up as well… Arya felt her heart sink. "This is interesting," She muttered. "But we still don't know what it means…"

"We know that Rhaegar was intentionally trying to be the father of a Bael-Rose." Gendry replied, still reviling in his success. "The Tourney was in the year of the False Spring, Jon was wanted-"

Suddenly it all clicked into place. "No." Arya said firmly. " _Visenya_ was wanted. Rhaegar wanted a _girl_ , he wanted to complete the three heads of the dragon with a Bael-Rose… we can't tell Jon."

"Arya?"

"We can't!" Arya yelled. "All those years of believing he was a bastard, of being told that he was less… my mother was vile to him, and my father didn't protect him as much as he should have… You of all people should understand what learning the truth of his parentage meant to him. For the first time in his life he actually felt wanted… loved… we can't take that away from him, it would break him. He can never know that the entire purpose of the tournament at Harrenhal was an attempt to seduce Lyanna." She felt the burn of tears in her eyes. "Uncle Brandon was right, Rhaegar didn't love her, he was using her!"

"Why couldn't it be both?" Gendry asked carefully. "Why couldn't it be that the woman that he believed fulfilled whatever prophecy he was chasing also stole his heart?"

"I…" Arya stuttered. "I don't know, it doesn't matter, Jon doesn't need this. He has enough doubts without us planting this seed in his head… I… Gareth the Greenhand told me that wherever I plant a seed it will grow, I will not plant this seed!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Gendry whispered, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. "We won't tell him, we'll never tell him, we'll never tell anybody, I promise. Rhaegar has to have thought he worked out what a Bael-Rose was. His answer may, or may not, be right, but we'll find it. Maybe it's a clue to defeating the Night King? We'll find it together, I'm sorry I haven't been much help with this, we'll spend at least an hour on this together every day, okay?"

Arya nodded and hugged him tightly, letting the tears finally escape. Why was it that she only ever wept for Jon? Maybe it was because she cried the tears that he refused to allow himself? She didn't know, all she knew was that she had to protect Jon from this. They decided to put the research away and retire, Arya lay awake in Gendry's arms for a long time before falling asleep. But, when she finally closed her eyes, Bran was waiting for her.

"I thought you would never come." He said softly.

Arya looked around her, they were standing at the Winterfell Heart Tree, there was an old man beside Bran, with long white hair, he was tall, and frail looking, blind in one eye. "Who are you?" Arya asked.

"I'm the Three Eyed Raven." The man replied.

Arya frowned and shook her head. "Bran's the Three Eyed Raven." She replied.

"Not yet, Bael-Rose." The old may answered softly, there was something familiar in his features, but Arya couldn't place it. "It's time for you to learn about Bael the Bard, the King Beyond the Wall whom stole a Stark Princess, and, in bedding her, wedded her, both to himself, and to the fate of all mankind. Your house has been blessed, and cursed, ever since."

Arya's frown deepened, the man's good eye was purple… "You had this conversation with Rhaegar once, didn't you?" She challenged.

"Not exactly." The Three Eyed Raven replied. "He wasn't as receptive as you are, I showed him what I could."

"Who were you before you were the Three Eyed Raven?" Arya challenged.

"That doesn't matter, child." The Three Eyed Raven replied.

"It does if you want me to trust you." Arya snapped. "This is our sacred place, a Stark place, who are you, a Targaryen, to stand here uninvited?"

The Three Eyed Raven chuckled softly. "I was never a Targaryen," He said softly. "I wanted it all my life, yet, even after my father legitimised me they wouldn't permit me to use the name. I was Brynden Rivers once, Bloodraven if you prefer, but that man is dead."

"Bloodraven," Arya muttered. "Do you know where Dark Sister is?"

The Three Eyed Raven gave her a sad smile. "Yes," He replied. "But you do not need it, you already have the blade you need, wolf-child, blood-child, Bael-Rose, do you wish to learn, or do you not?"

~~/~~

Part 85:

Eleven weeks after Arya and Gendry were married the invitation to Edmure's wedding arrived, it was to happen at Horn Hill, and he was to marry Talla Tarly, the strange thing about the invitation was that it spoke of a double wedding, Samwell had been released from the Night's Watch, it seemed, and he was to marry Gilly in the same ceremony. Arya couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face, she went off in search of Jon at a run, leaving a bewildered Roslin far behind. Master Pylos said that Jon was at one of the dragon glass mines, and Gendry was with him, Arya grabbed the first saddled horse that she could find and took off at a gallop, her excitement overwhelming all sense of protocol. Derren was the only guard quick-witted enough to keep up with her.

Arya was out of the gate and down the road before she realised that the horse under her was the pale mare, and that the hand that had given it to her had been Robar's, somehow Robar had just _been there_ … It was as if he had _known_ that she had needed a horse in that instant! She considered asking him about it later, but there was little point, he would simply shrug and say "I just had a feeling." like he always did.

Arya couldn't remember the last time she had ridden so wildly. She was in a light dress, weapons and jewellery in place, and her hair was in a simple half up, with just a few stands of pearls and the hair comb carved from Dragonsteel and Opal's shells decorating it. The lower half of her hair streamed wildly behind her, and for a moment Arya could imagine that she was flying. For a moment she could imagine that she was Rhaenyra Targaryen, racing across the skies on the yellow-scaled dragon, Syrax. Or Baela Targaryen, whom had cut her hair short to be easily told apart from her twin sister, and so that it didn't whip in her face, whether riding a horse, or her dragon, Moondancer. Or Viserra Targaryen, racing the streets of King's Landing on her palfrey… that thought sobered Arya, Viserra had died at the foot of Aegon's Hill, from a broken neck, after being thrown from her horse at the age of fifteen. Arya slowed her horse, finally giving Derren a chance to catch up with her.

"Princess, I…?" Derren gasped as he pulled up beside her.

"That was fun." Arya replied, grinning. "I haven't ridden like that in a long time." She noticed that the horse Derren was riding was one of the pale mare's offspring, the one with grey markings, and that Derren was looking rather worried. "I'm sorry I… I know I shouldn't have taken off like that, but I need to find Jon."

Derren nodded. "Is it urgent?"

Arya smiled. "No, but it's good news, his closest friend is getting married."

"Ah, and you're excited, I see." Derren replied, seeming to visibly relax. "Well, you may enjoy riding fast, Princess, but I prefer a more leisurely pace, why don't we take in the sights for the rest of the way?"

Arya nodded, she looked around her, the sparse fields and jagged rocks somehow reminded her of the North, there were farms on the other side of the island, and the soil was quite fertile, but there was little topsoil here, and this land was only used for grazing. The views, however, were spectacular. "Leisurely sounds good." She agreed, as she realised just how rocky, and uneven the ground actually was. "No need to slip and fall."

"No," Derren agreed. "Especially in your condition."

Arya pulled her horse to a halt and raised an eyebrow. "My condition? And exactly what condition is that?" She snapped.

"I… ah…" Derren stuttered. "You really don't know, do you? I thought Gendry was pulling my leg, Prince Gendry… I... uh…"

"Pulling your leg about what?"

Derren suddenly looked cornered, like he'd spilled a secret that he wasn't meant to tell, Arya held his gaze and finally he gave a heavy sigh. "Princess Arya, you are pregnant, almost three months so, Gendry believes, and your baby bump is starting to show, are you seriously saying that you hadn't realised? You have a little wolf-stag growing inside of you… or maybe a wolf-dragon, given Princess Alyssa's appearance."

Arya felt her jaw drop and her eyes widen, her hand instinctively moved to her stomach. Yes, her tummy had become a little more rounded lately, but she hadn't exactly been very active… she tried to think back to the last time she had bleed and realised that it had been a week and a half before the wedding. Was Gendry's baby really growing inside of her? "A wolf-stag," She muttered. "Or a wolf-dragon…" Her thoughts raced ahead of her and her lips quickened into a smile as a silly image crossed her mind, a creature with the claws and tail of a wolf, the head of a stag, and the wings and body of a dragon. "Maybe a chimera of the three?" She said softly. "A wolf-dragon-stag, with antlers, claws and wings." Whilst she chuckled at her little joke Derren remained serious.

"Maester Pylos thinks you're having twins." He said softly. "But Robar has bet fifty stags that you're having triplets… and I'm not one to bet against Robar when it comes to mutable births."

Twins? Triplets? Robb had fathered twins, but their family didn't exactly have a history of them, and one had died. Gendry's family did have a history of twins though, well, his _Targaryen_ family did… **_Gareth the Greenhand smiled at her and shook her hand, his grip strong and warm…_** Suddenly Old Nan's voice came to her, Nan's knitting needles clacking, as they always were when she told stories. **_"Maidens ripened in his presence, mothers brought forth twins or even triplets when he blessed them and young girls flowered at his smile."_** Arya's thoughts moved to the Elder Tree growing in Aegon's Garden, with a climbing rose spiralling around it's trunk. The rose bore three different flowers, frost blue, yellow, and purplish black. Arya shook her head, trying to clear it. "Triplets." She muttered. "A wolf, a dragon, and a stag."

"That would be a sight to see." Derren muttered. "You know, from anybody else that would make me laugh… but I once followed you as you followed a cat, through a maze of secret passages in the Red Keep, and won a war. I wouldn't put it past you… one day I expect to see you ride a dragon, although where we'll find another one, I'm not sure, it will be years before Dragonsteel and Opal are mature enough to breed."

 _'I know were three dragons are, and two of them are ripe for the picking._ ' She shook her head, trying to shake away the thought. _The image of Viserion, eyes glowing blue, bearing down on thousands of Unsullied filled her mind. Arya and Sansa watched with horror from Winterfell's battlements as Jon chased after him, on Rhaegal's back, the two clashed and Jon was thrown from Rhaegal's back. Jon hit the ground hard, but somehow he still seemed to be breathing. Suddenly Ghost was there, at Jon's side, dragging him towards the gate. Sansa turned and ran, to get the gates opened in time. "Sansa!" Arya yelled after her. "You'll never get him to the Crypts, go to the God's Wood! Go to Bran!"_

 _Sansa seemed to nod as she ran. Arya drew her bow and shot a desperate arrow as Viserion drew near, aiming for the Night King, but he saw the arrow coming and she missed her mark, the battle raged on. Somehow, Gendry ended up in front of the Night King, his hammer lost, Arya screamed as she saw the Night King grab him, the Night King looked at her then smiled, instead of killing Gendry the Night King dug his fingernail into Gendry's skin then tossed him aside, Gendry's eyes already turning a brighter blue. Arya looked around desperately and he eyes met with Sandor Clegane's. "I can save him," She begged. "But we need to get him to the Weirwood."_

 _She didn't know how they got to the Gods Wood, Jon was still breathing, Sansa was holding him in her lap, stroking his hair and begging him not to die. Bran wasn't there, his body was, but his mind was somewhere else. Arya ignored them all and focused on the shard of dragon glass in her hand. "I'll save you." She promised Gendry. Her hand shook and the dragon glass cut her, but she ignored it, shoving the shard into Gendry's chest… she could feel his pain…_

 _For some reason the Night King seemed to withdraw, giving them a short reprieve. Gendry continued to fight for the living, and somehow Arya realised that she had turned him into her personal weapon, it was like having two sets of eyes, she could be in two parts of the battlefield. They held the enemy back for hours, but when the Night King finally returned he had two dragons, Rhaegal had fallen as well. Daenerys and Drogon swooped in behind them… no... wait… Drogon's eyes were glowing blue… so were Daenerys'! Arya finally released Gendry and allowed him to find true death, she could still feel his pain. It was over, it was lost, she knew that now… but she would die with her family! She struggled her way to the God's wood. Jon was dead… Arya knelt down beside Sansa and hugged Jon's dead body, getting covered in his blood, she kissed his forehead._

 _"Arya!" Bran yelled. "Arya, you need to listen to me, there isn't much time."_

 _Arya stood, dazed, in front of the weirwood, she was covered in Jon's blood, Jon was dead… Gendry was dead… the Night King had three dragons…_

 _"Arya!" Bran screamed, the emotion in his voice surprising her. "There is a way to change this, there is a way to go back, but it will cost blood."…_

Arya shook her head, gathering her thoughts as she pulled herself out of the memory. "Dragons are not the answer," She replied softly. "He'll take them off of us, he took them off of us and used them against us."

"Who?" Derren asked, confused.

"The Night King." Arya replied, her voice soft. "He took control of Daenerys' dragons, he took control of her…"

"Were you a rider to any of them?" Derren questioned gently.

Arya shook her head. "I, no… he'd already taken Viserion, Jon was riding Rhaegal, but it was only the second time he'd ever ridden him."

"No Dragonsteel then?" Derren asked. "No Opal, no Dagrau'r Rhosyn?"

"No." Arya whispered softly, the memory from the other life had shaken her.

"No dragon touched by your hand, no dragon loved by you? Daenerys can only ride one dragon… I know what I'm saying is crazy, Princess, but Isaeyan wasn't meant for Rhaegal, they weren't fully bonded, he was born for Dagrau'r Rhosyn, and she was born for him. If there was a way to take two of Daenerys' dragons from her…"

It was a crazy idea, how could she possibly sneak into Meereen and steal Rhaegal and Viserion? Even if the poor creatures were locked away underground, she'd never get to them unless Daenerys was about to feed her to them. No, it was a foolish idea, especially if she was pregnant, Gendry and Renly would never agree, Jon would never agree. "I'm not a Targaryen." She muttered feebly, as if that were the only thing stopping her from launching an ill-conceived plan, but Derren wouldn't accept that reply.

"And when have you ever let a little thing like that stop you?" Derren challenged. "You're not a man, but you carry a sword… who ever said that only Targaryen's can ride dragons? Apart from Targaryen's, of course, that's like saying that only Stark's can be wargs. Look at Nettles and Sheepstealler, sure, the Targaryen's _claimed_ she was a dragon seed… and even if it _were_ true, you might not have Valyrian blood, but the children in your womb do, once a dragon was bonded to you…"

"You think anybody could ride a dragon?" Arya questioned, that would be the challenge, even if she _could_ somehow get to them, how would she possibly get them back to Dragonstone?

Derren shook his head. "Oh, gods no! I know I couldn't, but then I couldn't get a bastard legitimised, or coax him into hatching a dragon either. I couldn't skin change a cat, or a falcon… I couldn't warg a direwolf, or grow a tree from a seed in minutes… I couldn't fight a shadow demon, or chase a red priestess through a candle's flame… you are no ordinary person, Arya Stark, you are somebody special, and I am honoured to serve you."

"You serve Gendry." Arya replied, embarrassed and bewildered.

Derren shook his head. "No, I swore my oaths to him, to protect him, because he is important to you. He needed me, you didn't, but my loyalty to him stems from my loyalty to you. I'll always be one of your twelve, your bastard army. So will Galan, so will Aurane, do you realise that the life of every person whom has chosen to follow you has improved? I didn't even own shoes when I met you. I would follow you through the gates of the seven hells, the next time you decide to do something dangerous and unexpected, please, take me with you."

Arya shook her head. "You realise how crazy this entire conversation is?" She muttered and spurred her horse into action.

Derren followed. "I guess it's better to pretend we never had it then." He replied. "So, Isaeyan's closest friend is getting married then, are we attending?"

"Oh yes, we are attending." Arya agreed.

"And Galan and Aurane, they're coming with us?"

Arya shrugged. "Possibly…"

"Sounds like an adventure then, Princess, I believe Gendry and Isaeyan are this way." He pushed his horse ahead of her and Arya followed, her head still spinning at the strange turn their conversation had taken, her hand still resting on her stomach. Pregnant… she was pregnant… and Daenerys wanted fire and blood… the Night King wanted ice and blood… and she had always wanted a dragon…

~~/~~


	18. Chapters 86 - 90

Part 86:

Arya ran her finger's over her packed bags, trying to discern if she had forgotten anything, she was dressed in her armour, he diamond encrusted gorget fit perfectly over the yellow and black dragon leather, and, much to her surprise, so did her cuffs. Roslin had braided white, black, and grey pearls into the top half of her hair, then brought it back into a half-up bun, crowned by the comb made from Dragonsteel's shell, and inset with pieces of Opal's shell. The bottom half of her hair was a single braid, with chains of yellow diamonds wrapped around each section of the braid. There was more jewellery in her bags, there were dresses and night gowns, and everything a lady should want, and there was one bag that wasn't very ladylike. The knapsack that had gone with her from King's Landing to Strom's End, to Dragonstone, from White Harbor to Moat Cailin, to the Dreadfort, to Winterfell. She's packed a couple of changes of basic clothes, some good boots, some money, dried meats, flint, and a few other necessities in it. She'd also packed a book, a book almost as heavy as the one she had lugged around with the Caravan of the Yellow Lady, a journal… the journal of Septon Maynard.

Maybe she shouldn't take it? Maybe she should talk to Gendry? When the guards came to collect her things Arya almost left the bag behind, almost, but in the last instant she pulled it onto her shoulder. Taking the bag didn't mean anything, not really… she hadn't made any decisions… the bag was just a precaution. Gendry met her at the bottom of the stairs, Alyssa squirming in his arms, and walked with her to the waiting horses and carts, he wasn't going with them.

"All ready?" He asked, a questioning eye flicking to the knapsack, then back to Arya's face. Arya nodded, keeping her expression careful, but that only made Gendry frown. "Arya?" He said softly. "You're not going to need that, you have over a hundred guards going with you, over three hundred people all up. You have Jon, Dagrau'r Rhosyn, and Ghost. You have Brienne, Galan, Derren, and Aurane… I know you're going to Highgarden along the way, but Olenna would be a fool to try anything. You're not going to need to run, I promise."

Arya nodded and lent in to kiss him gently. "I know," she replied. "But just in case."

Gendry shook his head. "No, not just in case." He stopped walking. "Damn it, Arya, promise me that you're not going to go start a war in the Reach."

Arya gave him a gentle smile and reached out for Alyssa. "I'm not, I promise, I'd never put Alyssa, or Eldrick, in danger like that, or Olenn, would I, Lissy?" She dropped a kiss in Alyssa's forehead.

"Mama." Alyssa cooed and snuggled into her.

"Mama loves you very much." Arya replied, Alyssa had only started calling her 'mama' in the last few weeks and the name still brought a smile to her lips. It was Saia's influence, Arya was sure, ever since the truth had come out Saia had been telling Alyssa that Arya was her mama. Arya returned her attention to Gendry. "I promise I'll be careful, and I won't do anything stupid in the Reach, peace is important, but the knapsack makes me feel safer… I'll leave it behind if you, and Dragonsteel, come with me."

Gendry sighed and shook his head. "You know I want to, and you know I can't, we can't have all of Renly's heirs go gallivanting around the Reach for a couple of months… I'm going to miss you both so much!" He pulled her into a kiss, and she kissed him back deeply. They made the rest of the way to the waiting horses and carriages hand in hand. Arya passed Alyssa over to Brienne then gave Gendry one last farewell kiss. "I'm going to miss you terribly as well." She said softly. "I love you." She whispered, then turned and mounted her horse, it was only as she was riding out of the gate that she realised it was the first time she had actually said the words to him.

~~/~~

The crossing to the mainland took two days, including a half day stopover at Driftmark, and Renly was waiting to greet them at King's Landing. They stayed at King's Landing for nearly a week, Arya sat in on a few council meetings, and Renly spent a lot of time cooing over both Alyssa and Eldrick, he seemed to have genuinely missed Alyssa and she seemed happy to see him as well. Renly and Jon spent time together and Jon and Arya even stood beside Renly on a public event, Ygritte happy not to be involved. Renly was civil to Ygritte, but seemed somewhat uneasy knowing that she was from north of the Wall.

Then they were on the King's Road south, then turning off onto the Roseroad. Gendry had been right, Arya had over a hundred guards, but once you added in the squires, pages, attendants, cooks butchers, horse masters, and other servants, the number was closer to three hundred, and a dragon, and a direwolf. Arya felt sorry for some of the smaller Keeps that offered them hospitality along the road, as a royal it would have been considered an insult for her to offer them payment, but some of their hosts clearly could not afford the lavish feasts they put on for them. Arya mentioned her concerns to Galan at Bitterbridge.

Galan laughed however. "Do not feel guilty taking from Lorent Caswell." He replied. "He takes from whomever he chooses, see that longsword he wears so proudly? He has no right to it, it was a gift their former Blacksmith made for his son, Rolly, his strength and skill with a blade earned him a place in the castle garrison and his father was very proud of him. But Lorent claimed it for his own, when Rolly attempted to get it back Lorent told him that he was fit to wield a hammer not a sword."

Arya looked at Galan aghast. "What did Lorent's father do?"

"Nothing." Galan replied. "Lorent was his only son, and therefore his heir, he was a spoilt little weakling, still is, and I have no problems with eating his food and drinking his wine. Rolly, however, couldn't let it lie, he showed Lorent just what he could do with a hammer, Rolly broke both of his arms and many of his ribs."

Arya shook her head, memories of Mycah's dead body slung over the Hound's horse like a bag of potatoes filled her mind, she'd stopped that from happening the second time around, but she didn't know what had happened to Mycah, for all she knew he could have been slaughtered at Cersei's orders, along with many other Stark servants, the day that Robert had died. Arya allowed her thoughts to return to the present and Galan's story, she didn't want to know what punishment had been carried out on Rolly, but she found herself unable to stop herself from asking. "What did they do to Rolly?"

Galan smirked. "They couldn't catch him, he got the first boat to Essos, rumour has it he's a sword for the Golden Company now."

"Good." Arya muttered, she frowned. "It's not Lord Caswell that suffers if things are short though, is it? It's the servants and the guards."

Galan looked at her thoughtfully. "That's true enough… you know what servants and guards do though? They play dice. I'm good at dice, good at winning when I want to, good at loosing too. If you want me to lose a purse or two along the way, into the hands that need it most, that can be arranged."

Arya nodded and handed a purse of coins over to him. "Arrange it." She replied.

"Yes, Princess." Galan replied and turned to leave.

"Galan?" Arya stopped him as he was walking away. "I… it's a good plan… it's the type of plan that I would have expected from Tyrion… I… that's a complement, you've inherited your father's cleverness."

Galan gave her a sad smile. "Let's hope that's all I've inherited." Then he turned and walked away.

Arya felt her heart break for him, Tysha might have forgiven Tyrion for failing to protect her from Tywin, for failing to try and find her, but Galan still had a lot of pain to heal. He truly didn't appreciate how much Tyrion had _feared_ Tywin, how _helpless_ Tyrion had been. Arya hoped that Galan never knew fear, or helplessness, like that.

The next day, once they were over an hour away from Bitterbridge, Galan pulled his horse up beside Arya's looking smug. "You'll never guess what happened last night." He said softly.

"What?" Arya asked.

Galan's smirk grew wider. "Lord Caswell came to the dice table… I let him win a few times, then put this on the table." He tapped the hilt of his sword, he then turned back a piece of fabric on his saddle, revealing Rolly's longsword. "Think we can get this back in the proper hands?"

Arya bit her lip. "We could talk to some of the traders about getting a message to the Golden Company." She muttered, she met his gaze. "After all, it's not like I'm planning to go to Essos for any reason."

Galan held her gaze for a long while then nodded. "Of course, Yellow Lady, I'll just hold onto this for now, we'll work out how to get it to Rolly later."

~~/~~

As they continued down the Roseroad Arya continued to give Galan purses at each minor keep, the smaller the keep, the larger the purse. She had expected them to stay at a lot more inns, and had brought an abundance of coin with her.

Every keep along the way seemed to want to host them, making the journey to Highgarden slow, it took them over a moon to reach Highgarden. Lord Mace, Sansa, and Lady greeted them warmly, but Olenna was nowhere in sight. Sansa looked good, _really_ good! She had lost all of the baby weight and her smile seemed genuine. Arya was happy to notice that Lady also wasn't on a leash, the direwolf did look rather plump though. Ghost and Lady sniffed around each other with interest.

"Gods, what are you feeding her, Sansa?" Jon muttered, clearly he had also noticed that Lady was looking fat.

Sansa threw back her head and laughed, she spontaneously embraced Jon, something which she had never done before. Jon froze for a moment, then hugged her back tightly. Sansa pulled back and looked him up and down. "Still Jon, aren't you? Nice to see that fancy Targaryen name hasn't gone to your head. I really did miss you." She hugged him again. "I'm sorry I was so horrible to you when we were young, I was a terrible sister."

"It's okay." Jon muttered into her shoulder.

Sansa shook her head and pulled back. "No, it's not, half-brother, or cousin, it doesn't matter. You're my blood, I should have treated you better. Lady isn't fat, Ghost is going to be an uncle, it seems when we left her and Grey Wind alone in a room they decided we need more direwolves south of the Wall."

Jon scrunched up his face. "Eww, that's incest." He muttered.

"Says the Targaryen." Sansa replied lightly. "The Kennel Master isn't too concerned, although he did suggest that if we want to continue breeding them we'll need to look at getting some fresh blood in a few generations. Speaking of tummies," She patted Arya's stomach. "How far along are you? Five months, six?" Sansa asked with a raised eyebrow.

Arya glared at her. "I've only been married four months." She replied. "Maester Pylos thinks I'll have twins, but people are casting bets that it's triplets."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "If you say so, little sister. Come, let me show you your rooms, baths are already being drawn for you, and you both have rooms close to the nursery. It will be good for Olenn to spend some time with his cousins."

Jon nodded and followed but Arya frowned. "Where's Olenna? She questioned.

Mace lowered his eyes. "She's… ah…"

"She's confined to her quarters." Sansa replied calmly. "And will be for the rest of her days. She tried to poison me not so long ago, actually she succeeded, but it wasn't a fatal dose. We faked my death to get her to confess, and she's been locked away ever since."

"God's, Sansa…" Jon muttered.

Sansa smiled at him. "It's okay, Jon… well, it's terrible for Mace," She squeezed Mace's arm gently. "But it is what it is. Olenna showed her true colours, that she is a poison to this House, a poison that infected Margaery and Loras, a poison that gives credence to the rumours that her late husband's death might not have been an accident."

"What? You think she killed him?" Arya asked.

"No," Lord Mace replied softly. "I think my father road that horse over that cliff intentionally to escape her."

"Mace," Sansa said softly, squeezing his arm again. "We'll make House Tyrell strong and healthy again, we'll grow strong, I promise."

Mace placed his other hand on top of Sansa's. "Princess Sansa has truly been my rock through this." He let his hand fall away and Sansa withdrew her hand as well. "Come, let me show you all around my humble home!"

"Mace, no." Sansa chuckled. "Their baths will get cold."

"Yes, yes, of course. Later then, Princess, I'll leave you to your family, until dinner." He captured her hand and dropped a feather-light kiss on the back of it, then turned and walked away.

"That was rather _familiar_." Jon muttered disapprovingly once Mace was out of earshot.

"Oh, Jon, stop it." Sansa replied, rolling her eyes. "Mace is a perfect gentleman, he has treated me with nothing but respect."

"He's in love with you." Ygritte observed.

"Yes," Sansa agreed. "Well, I could certainly do worse."

Arya gasped. "Sansa! You are not going to marry your dead husband's father!"

Sansa tugged at a ring on her finger. "I might if he asks." She replied, then she shrugged. "But he hasn't asked, so there's no point discussing it, this way."

~~/~~

Part 87:

"This is ridiculous." Elenei muttered as she tugged at the front of Arya's dress. "It's no good, take it off, that one won't work either." Arya sighed and Roslin helped her free the dress from her shoulders, tossing it onto the ever growing pile of discarded clothing on her bed. Elenei placed a hand on Arya's rounded stomach. "You're pregnant, but you're not fat, if anything the rest of your body looks like you've _lost weight_ , how many pup's do you have growing in there, Arya?"

Arya shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? Robar think's it's triplets…"

Elenei met her gaze. "I've never seen a pregnant woman's belly expand so fast, unless they were also getting fat, how does you armour still fit?"

Arya shrugged. "I don't know, it just does."

Elenei, sighed. "Well, at this rate it's going to be the only thing that does, I don't have time to modify any of these dresses, I… I thought I'd allowed for your pregnancy…" Elenei looked close to tears.

"Ella, it's okay, we'll work something out." Arya said softly.

A knock at the door drew their attention. As Roslin went to see who it was Elenei helped Arya pull a robe around herself, another struggle, soon the robe wouldn't fit either. Suddenly Lady was pushing through the door, forcing Roslin aside, Sansa strode through the door confidently, scanning and accessing the scene in front of her in the same manner that father always did. Emma was a couple of steps behind her, baby Olenn in her arms.

"Nothing fits, does it?" Sansa stated, taking in the pile of discarded dresses. "I remember what that felt like." She clapped the fingers of her right hand into the palm of her left hand twice and a number of women came in carrying bundles of fabric. "This is all of my pregnancy dresses, I know they're not your style, but we should find something in here to get you through the next few days, and we won't leave for Horn Hill until you have a suitable dress, with room for growth."

"But the wedding…" Arya protested.

"Uncle Edmure will wait for us, the wedding will be delayed until we arrive." Sansa replied confidently.

Arya shook her head in disagreement. "That's not fair on Edmure, or Sam."

Sansa sighed. "You still don't get it, we're princesses, Arya. I… I know I didn't get it when I first came to Highgarden, I still tried to act like a lady, and gave Olenna the power to undermine me. But I've accepted my title and taken my power back. It is an honour to have two princesses attend their weddings, they'll wait for us, and they'll be happy about it. I've already sent a raven ahead."

"And what did that raven say?" Arya challenged.

"That, given your pregnancy, I have insisted you rest for a few days before we proceed to Horn Hill. Honestly, Arya, for the sake of your child, you need to take things easy, your face is looking very thin."

"I'm fine." Arya muttered. "And it's _'children'_ , there's more than one in there."

"If that's really so then I want one of the Maesters to have a look at you. Multiple births are dangerous."

Arya raised an eyebrow at that. "How many Maesters does Highgarden have?" She asked.

"Five," Sansa replied. "No, seven, if you count the two acolytes that help with the library. Sometimes there are more, we have a very good relationship with Oldtown. But we can discuss that later, first, let's sort your dress." Sansa picked up one of the dresses her attendants had brought in, it was a pastel blue, trimmed with white satin. "Try this one on, I think it will fit." She said softly.

The dress did fit, it was loose even, but the skirt was too long. "You're right, it's not my style… and there's no way I can walk in this." Arya protested.

"We can tack up the hem, somebody find me a needle and thread." Sansa replied. "It may not be your style, but it suits you… you look like a winter rose."

Arya glared at her reflection in the mirror and scrunched up her nose. "I'm not a blue rose though, am I? Not anymore. I'm the yellow lady…"

"Oh gods, Arya." Sansa snapped. "You are not going to spend the rest of your days only wearing yellow and black, with hints of grey, there are so many beautiful colours in the world, you are allowed to wear a colour simply because it looks good on you."

"Princess Sansa?" Roslin asked softly. "Do you require the dress back?"

"No," Sansa replied. "You have a suggestion that might appease my impossible sister?"

Roslin chewed her lip and nodded slowly, she picked up one of Arya's dresses off of the pile, the yellow one with the black section and the yellow direwolf stitched into it, the re-work of the dress that Arya had worn to Robb's coronation ceremony. "If we removed the sleeves of the blue dress, then Princess Arya could wear the yellow undershirt, or the grey one, and this over top. The black satin belt would hide that it doesn't close properly."

Sansa nodded. "Arya? Would you accept that?"

Arya nodded. She removed the dress, pulling the robe back on, and watched, feeling useless, as Sansa and Elenei got to work on the dress, Elenei removing the sleeves while Sansa hemmed the bottom.

"Oh gods, Arya, don't just hover over there." Sansa muttered. "Emma, put Olenn down and go find a Maester to look at Arya."

Emma nodded and did as she was asked, ten minutes later Ayla was lying on the bed, her stomach being poked and prodded, while a wrinkly old man said "Hmm" and "ah" with the occasional "curious" thrown in for good measure. Once the Maester was done he confirmed that Arya was carrying at least twins, possibly more.

~~/~~

Roslin was right, the pastel blue peeking out of the yellow dress looked much better, it reminded Arya of her special rose at Dragonstone, the one Gareth the Greenhand had planted for her. Unfortunately, no matter how they tied the belt Arya's blades just wouldn't sit right because of her stomach, the sword belt kept slipping down. It was odd, Arya hadn't had any issues while in the armour. She reluctantly decided to put her weapons aside.

They spent three days at Highgarden, and Sansa helped modify a number of other dresses for her. Arya saw Wylla Manderly from time to time, but Wylla seemed happy to stay in the background. It seemed that Wylla's role at Highgarden had changed from Sansa's hand maiden to her advisor, and Wylla had quite a lot of influence in the day to day running of the Keep, it was as if Sansa and Wylla had staged a coup and taken the place over in the last four months, maybe they had? Sansa was very much the lady of the Castle, what with Olenna being locked away, but Arya feared that Olenna still had some power to cause Sansa harm. Sansa, however, waved off such concerns, claiming that any servant suspected of being loyal to Olenna had been replaced. Wylla remained at Highgarden, to 'Look after Sansa's interests' while Sansa, Olenn, Mace, and a company of about two hundred joined them on the road to Horn Hill, their combined numbers were over five hundred strong when they arrived at Sam Tarly's family home, and Sam seemed both overwhelmed and overjoyed.

Arya smiled as Ghost rushed ahead to great Sam, then Jon and Sam were face to face and embracing each other tightly. Arya stayed back while Sam admired Dagrau'r Rhosyn in fear and awe, she couldn't help but smile as Jon insisted on putting the small dragon around Sam's shoulders. "She won't hurt you, Sam, I promise." Jon said, laughing.

"Nobody hurts Sam, unless they want to deal with Ghost, right?" She said as she walked over towards them.

"I… uh, Princess Arya…" Sam stuttered. "It seems I owe you a debt of gratitude…"

Arya smiled at his nervousness. "Don't be silly, Sam, Jon made you pack." Arya replied confidently. "You, your Gilly-flower, little Sam… you're all pack as far as I'm concerned."

"Agreed." Sansa said from not far behind Arya. "You're a brother to Jon, that makes you a brother as far as I'm concerned, so, give me a hug, brother."

Arya watched Sansa in surprises as Sansa walked past her and embraced Sam, seemingly unconcerned about the dragon on his shoulders. Sam hugged her hesitantly, and she gave him a gentle smile as she released him, Lady coming up beside her. "This is Lady." Sansa introduced, running her hand through Lady's fur. "Come, show us around your beautiful home."

Sam obliged, and Arya found herself taking a step back, just watching Sansa interact with people. Sansa had gotten all of her confidence back, and more, she'd always been good at making people love her, but now… now she was almost as good as Renly. Arya couldn't tell when Sansa was being genuine, and when she wasn't, maybe she'd learnt in this life from being Olenna's victim, just as she'd learnt in the last life from being Cersei's then Littlefinger's? Mace seemed to watch Sansa's every move with adoration.

They found Edmure in one of the courtyards with Talla and Melessa and Arya noticed Jon instantly draw to the back of the group, his eyes searching the area defensively. It took Arya a moment to realise that he was looking for Catelyn, expecting her to come out of a shadow, or an archway, and tell him that he wasn't welcome. Arya dropped back beside him and looped her arm in his, drawing him forward.

Edmure released Sansa from an embrace and turned his attention to them. "Arya," he greeted warmly, then questioning eyes moved to Jon and Edmure extended his hand in greeting. "You must be Isaeyan Targaryen."

Jon released Arya's arm and stepped forward, taking Edmure's offered hand. "That's the name my mother gave me." He replied carefully.

Edmure nodded, his gaze moving from Jon to Arya, then back again. "It seems you got much of your looks from your mother," Edmure observed. "No wonder Cat feared you so. You can relax, my sister isn't here, Robb has asked her to remain at Winterfell a little longer."

Jon did seem to relax, if only a little. "That obvious, is it?" He asked softly.

"Your face is as honest as Ned Stark's." Edmure replied. "Gods only know how he managed to keep the truth of your parentage secret, he must love you very much. I… I'm not trying to justify how Cat treated you, but if I didn't know any better I would truly believe you were Ned's son, if you had ever challenged Robb's claim I'd say-"

"I'd never do that." Jon cut him off. "King Robb Stark is the rightful King in the North, he is Brandon's heir, and Ice and Winterfell are his inheritance. I would never challenge that, therefore there is nothing to say."

Edmure nodded. "No, I guess not."

Sam gave a nervous chuckle. "Yes, well… I'm glad that's settled." He muttered. "Mother, would you help me get our guests settled?"

Melessa nodded. "Of course." She agreed. "Talla, come, let's get our guests to their quarters so that they can bath and dress for supper. Welcome to Horn Hill, all of you."

~~/~~

There was light rain on the next morning, but by the time of the wedding the rain had passed and the grounds had dried. The double ceremony was simple, but sweet, and feasting went late into the night. Mace Tyrell was quite a dancer, it seemed, and he insisted on Arya shearing at least one dance with him, much to Sansa and Jon's amusement. Even though Arya was only drinking water she found herself getting into the spirit of the event, she danced with Jon, and with Edmure, and after that it seemed wrong not to share a dance with Sam. Aurane, insisted on a dance as well, although Arya spent half of it laughing as Aurane gave comment on everybody around them.

Eventually Arya found herself sitting in a corner, with Lady and Ghost at her feet and Dagrau coiled around her like a snake. She felt somewhat lonely watching the dancing, not because she wanted to dance, but because Gendry wasn't there. She watched as Jon danced with Ygritte, Aurane danced with Roslin, and Sansa danced with Mace. As the night progressed Mace danced with his sister, Mina, and Sansa danced with Mina's husband, Paxter Redwyne, whom was also Olenna's nephew. Both of Paxter's sons, Horas and Hobber, asked Arya to dance, but she waved them off as politely as she could. Once Sansa was finished dancing with Paxter she allowed first Horas, then Hobber, to give her a turn around the room whilst Mace danced with his niece, Desmera.

A few songs later Mace took a chair near Arya's, a goblet of wine in his hand. "She is quite a woman, your sister, isn't she?" Mace observed, Sansa was dancing with Jon now, and both looked to be enjoying themselves. Ygritte, despite not being interested in dancing at first, was letting Sam led her around the room, she didn't even get angry when he stood on her foot.

"Yes," Arya agreed. "She suffered at the Bolton's hands, when Winterfell was taken, but she's found her strength again."

Mace nodded and took a long draft of his wine. "She makes me feel young again." Mace admitted. "Ever since Alerie…" He let the words trail off, everybody knew that Alerie had not taken Margaery and Loras' death's well. She had blamed Olenna for it, and had returned to Oldtown. Two months later Mace had been advised that she had sort, and been granted, an annulment. Mace shook his head. "Alerie is beautiful, in a handsome sort of way, and we were mostly amicable, except when it came to my mother… but what's a son to do? I… until Mother made an attempt on Sansa's life I didn't know how low she could stoop, and now I am at a loss."

"Have you tried making peace with Alerie?" Arya asked softly.

Mace nodded. "Oh yes, your sister encouraged me to, but the only thing that truly bound us was our children, and now they are gone. As far as Alerie is concerned my actions in regards to my mother are too little, too late."

Arya nodded. "Robb and I were always trying to shield Jon from my mother… Isaeyan… I… I guess we still are, it's no coincidence that Robb begged mother to stay a little longer, what with the close friendship between Jon and Sam… Isaeyan and Sam… I… I hope I'll be a better mother than that."

"You have a good heart, Princess Arya, watching you with Alyssa… it brings me joy. Thank you for bringing her."

Arya nodded. "You're her blood, families are important, especially when they are complicated, like ours is." She reached over and clasped his hand. "You are Lissy's grandfather, as long as you do right by her I won't hide her away from you."

"Lissy, I like that nickname, may I use it?" Mace asked.

Arya nodded. "Of course, we're family." _Just like Daenerys is Jon's family._ The thought nagged at her. Daenerys was Jon's family, Arya couldn't just try and take her dragons. Arya wasn't the same person she had been in the other life, neither was Jon, why should Daenerys be the same person? Arya needed to give her a chance, see if she could be reasoned with. If Daenerys learnt about Jon before coming to Westeros, if she knew that she wasn't the last Targaryen, that her dragons weren't the only ones… surely…

Gods, the entire situation made Arya's head hurt. Derren thought that they should try and take the dragons, and (from the conversation she'd had with Galan after he's acquired Rolly's stolen sword) Derren had clearly spoken with Galan on the matter. Galan seemed convinced that they would be going to Essos soon. Arya had to admit that she had allowed for the possibility, she'd never have brought the knapsack with her if she hadn't. But with her growing pregnancy… maybe they should wait? Once the child, or children, were born… no, that was a lie. Once the babes in her womb were born she'd never do it, she'd find one excuse after the other… but she couldn't go to Meereen with the intent to steal the dragons, it had to be about Jon… Isaeyan… she had to give Daenerys a choice.

But what if Daenerys chose to kill her and her unborn children? And what about Gendry? Surely he deserved better than for her to simply take off on him? But no, if she told Gendry what she intended to do he'd beg her not to… what did she intend to do? She wasn't sure yet, but she knew if she looked Gendry in the eye she wouldn't be able to go through with it.

"Copper for your thoughts." Aurane said softly.

Arya looked up at him, startled. Mace was gone, she finally saw him on the other side of the room, laughing with Paxter. "I was thinking about families, and how complicated they are." Arya muttered.

Aurane nodded and took the seat beside her, he reached out and stroked Dagrau'r Rhosyn's head. "Yes, they are complicated." He agreed softly. "But it was more than that, you had that look…"

Arya raised an eyebrow in question. "What look?" She challenged.

Aurane chuckled. "I'm not quite sure what to call it, but it's a pondering look. Gendry calls it the 'she's got a plan and I'm not going to like it' look. Which family were you thinking about, exactly?"

"J- …" Arya took a deep breath, she needed to learn to start using Jon's real name. "Isaeyan's." She replied.

"You're part of Isaeyan's family." Aurane replied without missing a beat.

"Yes, and so is Daenerys." Arya replied. "She deserves to know about him, she deserves to know that Rhaegar wasn't a rapist, that she isn't alone in the world. I… it might change who she becomes."

"And if it doesn't?" Aurane asked carefully.

"Then we go with Derren's plan." Arya replied. "But I have to give her a chance first."

Aurane nodded, he kept his eyes on the room, his voice soft and low. "When?" He asked.

"When we're returning to Dragonstone, after we've left Driftmark, once I know that Alyssa will get home safely… we'd need to jump ship and change boats… the timing would have to be perfect, if Jon realises what I'm up to he'll try and stop me."

"If so many people are against it then maybe it's a reckless plan." Aurane said softly. "Suicide even?" he scratched under Dagrau'r Rhosyn's chin. Suddenly his jaw clenched and he let his hand fall away.

Arya followed his gaze and saw Ser Hyle Hunt being just a little too friendly with Roslin. Suddenly Aurane was on his feet and moving. "Aurane, what are you going to do?" She called after him.

Aurane paused, turned towards her and smiled. "Something reckless." He replied, he dipped into a bow, then turned and walked into the middle of the room. "Quiet! Everybody be quiet!" He yelled. The musicians stopped playing and the talking quickly stopped. Once Aurane had everybody's attention he smiled. "Forgive me, I have a very important reason to interrupt the festivities. Lord Edmure, Lord Samwell, I hope you do not feel I am encroaching on your special day. Midnight is passed, it is technically a new day, and I can let this matter rest no longer. Roslin Frey, will you marry me?"

The entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Roslin's reply, she walked towards Aurane. "That's very sweet, Aurane, but you're drunk, if you truly mean it then get your brother to petition my father on the matter once you're sober."

"I'm not drunk," Aurane replied. "I may have had a few wines, but I am not drunk, and we both know that your father would sell you to a goat herder if the price was right. I know I was born a bastard, I know I don't hold lands, but I love you, and I don't want to go another day without you as my wife."

"Aurane, that's very sweet, but be sensible, even if I say yes right now, even if my father accepts it, there's still the dowry and-"

Aurane cut her off with a kiss. "I don't want a dowry, I want you." He replied once he had pulled back. "Marry me, right here, right now, before the Septon drinks himself under the table."

"I…" Roslin looked around the room, she seemed unsure of what to do, suddenly she returned her gaze to Aurane. "Gods, what will I do with you? Yes, I'll marry you, right here, right now."

The entire room seemed to cheer, the Septon gathered himself, and hurried off to get what he needed, drinks were put aside as people waited. The ceremony was short and informal, it was very much an elopement. Edmure, as Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, gave Roslin away, and a Velaryon banner was used in place of a cloak. Afterwards everybody congratulated them, as Arya gave Aurane a hug he whispered into her ear. "Now you have to bring me back to her alive."

Before Arya could respond somebody had called the bedding ceremony.

~~/~~

Part 88:

It was good to watch Jon laugh, and Sam certainly knew how to make Jon laugh. They had been at Horn hill for six days now, and were sitting down to a lavish breakfast in the family banquet room. Although large, the room was quite full, Sansa and Mace were at one end of the table, looking as familiar as man and wife. Emma was in a corner with Olenn, watching Eldrick and Alyssa play under Brienne and Saia's watchful eyes, and looking terrified at how fearlessly the two toddlers interacted with the two direwolves and Jon's dragon, it was likely she'd never watched a chubby little hand steal food out of a dragon's mouth before. Baby Sam kept running from Gilly to Ghost and back again, he would run up to Ghost, wrap his arms around the direwolf and kiss him, then run back to Gilly, giggling. Gilly watched contentedly, one hand tucked in Sam's, as Sam and Jon spoke animatedly, the rest of the Tarly clan watching on in amazement, Dickon seemed the most awed by the dragon and direwolves.

Talla sat away from her mother, two sisters, and two brothers, sitting on the opposite side of the table with Edmure, and the two looked quite taken with each other. Roslin sat beside Talla, and the two were talking quietly, Aurane quietly observing it all beside them. Arya sat at the other end of the table to Mace, the Lords seat, Melessa quietly pushing more and more food onto Arya's plate. Melessa pushed a third helping of scrambled eggs onto Arya's plate, causing Arya to arch an eyebrow.

"Anybody would think you were trying to fatten me up." Arya muttered, but she quietly admitted that she was still hungry, and the eggs had been scrambled with cream, she dug her fork into the fluffy lump and took a large mouthful.

"I am." Melessa replied calmly. "Your cheeks are looking hollow, Princess, that baby in your belly is taking all the food and starving you."

"Babies." Sansa corrected from the other end of the table, waving a piece of bread dripping with butter and honey. "Arya always does things by extremes, even getting pregnant."

"Twins?" Melessa replied surprised. "We better send for more eggs."

Aurane pushed some more bacon onto Arya's plate. "Robar and I have a bet, Robar says triplets… I say she'll have four, just to prove him wrong."

Jon chuckled. "Knowing Arya, it'll be an entire litter of pups." He joked.

Arya threw a piece of bread at him. " _Lady_ is having pups, I'm having children."

"At least we _hope_ you're having children." Sansa muttered. "How _would_ we explain it if you gave birth to direwolves?"

"Or dragons." Aurane added with a smirk. "Oh wait, you're already the 'Aunt of Dragons'."

Arya nearly choked on her eggs. "The _what_?!" She questioned after carefully putting down her fork.

Aurane's smirk widened. "The ' _Aunt_ of Dragons'." He replied confidently. "Gendry would never have found the dragon eggs if not for you, and, as much as you may not have been aware of it at the time, they travelled beside you for months, with the Crown of Winter. Shireen is convinced that she only managed to hatch Opal because of you giving her confidence, and you literally sat there and talked Gendry into hatching Dragonsteel. Shall we even go into how you not only found and woke Dagrau'r Rhosyn's egg, but _named_ her?" He held her gaze as he listed off his evidence. "If Daenerys can call herself the 'Mother of Dragons' then I see no reason why we cannot call you the 'Aunt of Dragons'."

The entire table sat in stunned silence for a few moments, but eventually Jon broke it. "Daenerys…" He muttered. "I… she needs to know… she deserves to know about me." His eyes suddenly got a faraway look. "A dragon, alone in the world, is a terrible thing." He muttered.

Sam touched his shoulder. " _Anybody_ alone in the world is a terrible thing, trust me, I was alone in the world when I arrived at Castle Black. My own _father_ had threatened to murder me, and Alliser Thorne seemed intent on having me beaten to death on the training yard, but then you saved me. You, then your father, then your sister."

"Sam…" Jon muttered.

"Look, I know Rhaegar sired you, but Ned Stark is your father, a blind man could see that… a blind man did. I was with Aemon when he died, so was Lord Stark, do you know what one of the last lucid things that Aemon said was? Jon? He said he was glad that Ned had claimed you, glad that you had a family. You have _never_ been alone in the world, Jon, even when you thought you were."

"Daenerys has…" Jon replied softly. "I should…"

"You should _what_?!" Sam snapped. "Go over to Essos and get yourself, Ghost, and Dagrau'r Rhosyn murdered? Haven't you been listening to the news from Essos?! They say she crucified _hundreds_ when she took over Meereen with her Dothraki Slavers and her slave army of Unsullied, an army that she _stole!_ That she murder hundreds and _burnt down Astapor_ after she stole them!"

"Astapor is a slave city." Jon defended. "They say she killed mostly Slavers."

"Perhaps," Sam agreed. "But she burnt it all the same. She made a deal then broke it, to _steel a slave army!_ What honour is there in that?! She claims to be the 'Breaker of Chains' but she has reinstated slavery! All her actions are based on her perceived _right_ to the Iron Throne. Do you think she'll take kindly to being told that you have a better claim, she's a conqueror, Jon!"

"You don't know _what_ she is!" Jon snapped. "All we've heard is reports from people who have lost to her. We don't know how she'd react, she's my blood, she deserves a chance, if I can't give that to her then what am I?"

Aurane cleared his throat and stood up. "I am Daenerys Stormborn, of the blood of Old Valyria and I will take what is mine, with fire and blood!" He snapped. "That is what she told the Silk King of Qarth when he refused to give her a hundred ships, over a dozen people witnessed it. The Thirteen, the leaders of Qarth, brought her and her people in from the Red Waste, and saved their lives. But that wasn't enough for her, she demanded more! Do you know where the Silk King is now? He's dead."

Jon rose to his feet. "If he's dead then how do you know this is true?!"

"Because we trade with Qarth!" Aurane replied. "The Silk King is dead! The Spice King is dead! The Copper King is dead! All murdered in the home of Xaro Xhoan Daxos, whom vouched for Daenerys and offered her his home. Xaro Xhoan Daxos, whom proclaimed himself the King of Qarth, believing that Daenerys would be his Queen. And now? Xaro Xhoan Daxos is missing, his home looted, and his Queen has moved on! If you go to Meereen, Isaeyan, you rob your wife of a husband and your son of a father!"

"Somebody has to go!" Jon yelled back. "She deserves to know! Somebody has to give her a chance!"

"Yes." Aurane replied calmly. "We do, Arya and I have already discussed it. I'll go, once we've returned you safely to Dragonstone. I have a better chance of survival, look at me, who can deny that I am also the blood of Old Valyria? If she'll listen to anybody, she'll listen to a Velaryon."

"Aurane?" Roslin whispered.

Aurane turned to his new wife and his expression softened. "Please don't ask me not to do this." He said softly.

Roslin nodded, she rose to her feet and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I won't." She replied. "Part of what I love about you is your loyalty to Arya, just, be careful… come back to me."

"I will." Aurane replied. "Galan and Derren are coming with me, we'll protect each other."

Arya kept her mouth shut and did her best not to draw attention, hoping not to be forced into a lie. Yes, Aurane was going to Meereen, but the entire army of the dead could not stop her from going with him. Arya had heard the reports, she had sat at the Small Council meetings discussing them, but she was also aware that it was only part of the truth. If Jon had trusted Daenerys in the other life, if he had loved her, then there had to be good in her. It was likely that the reports were a very bias account of the facts, it made her wonder what reports Daenerys might have heard about her? Would she be seen as a dangerous conqueror, not deserving of trust, or mercy, in Daenerys' mind? **_Arya Kingmaker, the Yellow Lady, the Queen of Bastards, Aunt of Dragons. She whom does not kneel, the Little Wolf, Princess Arya of House Stark, wife of the Prince of Dragonstone._** Arya's little list of names was getting quite absurd.

~~/~~

Later that day Arya and her companions left Horn Hill, returning with Sansa and Mace to Highgarden. On their return to Highgarden Arya found a number of representatives of different Houses, there waiting for her. Both Lord Ashford (of Ashford) and Lord Fossoway of Cider Hall had sent representatives, asking her to visit their Keeps on her return journey, as had the new Lord of Blackhaven. Even Ser Dorrmon Buckler of Bronzegate was there, offering an invitation from his Uncle, Lord Ralph Buckler, although he looked somewhat uncomfortable about it.

Arya was conflicted, on the one hand she might never get another opportunity to travel like this, on the other her growing pregnancy, and her intentions to sneak off to Essos meant that the longer she delayed, the more risky her plan was. But, to snub such invitations could be considered an insult, and to insult such men could lead to war. Melessa Tarly had advised her that if she ever had to choose between the red apple and the green she should choose the red, Cider Hall had more tactical valuable and it was just a short sail up the Mander, it would not be wise to refuse their invitation. From Cider Hall they could take the Cockleswent to Ashford, and, if they were lucky, it should only take a week to get from Ashford to Blackhaven. Likely the return trip would take little longer than their journey down the Roseroad had, but it would mean that the only places they stopped twice at were Highgarden and King's Landing, thus dispelling any possible claims of favouritism. (And preventing Lorent Caswell from making any attempt at re-acquiring Rolly's sword.)

Arya had always wanted to see Ashford, and she was curious who had taken over Blackhaven in Beric's absence. Besides, they would have to pass by Summerhall if they travelled from Blackhaven to Bronzegate, and Summerhall was a place that Arya very much wanted to see. And to venture into the Stormlands, but carefully avoid Storm's End, might help reinforce Renly's confidence that Arya wasn't trying to dethrone him, nobody needed an insecure King. Jon agreed with her proposed route, he seemed quite proud of her for her choices… although he got rather quiet at the mention of visiting Summerhall. Aurane, as always, simply laughed and called it an adventure. Three days after their return to Highgarden a fleet of Tyrell boats took them meandering down the Mander, past Dunstonbury, which had once belonged to the Manderly's, to Cider Hall.

~~/~~

Part 89:

Ashford had earned its name for the gentle ford and the groves of ash trees that grew near it, the groves of Ashes had diminished over the centuries, but the fertile land was still full of surprises. Wild lavender grew amongst the grasses, water irises swayed at the water's edge, flowering brilliantly for a day, only to be fading by the morrow. Tall, proud, olive trees, laden with fruit, sprang out of the ground, offering shade to cows and sheep alike, and oft even in the same field. Small dusty wild roses in pinks and whites sprung up like weeds, vying with petunias, tulips and violets for space. Gareth the Green Hand's touch was everywhere!

Apple and pear trees were everywhere, as were peaches, plums, necter-fruits and apricots. Row upon row of planted fields could be seen in the distance, heavy with corn, onions, garlic, broccoli, and so much more. Ashford's godswood was impressive, but where Winterfell's godswood was dim under its heavy canopy, comprised mostly of black ironwoods and grey-green sentinels, Ashford had more oaks, ashes, and pines. Its Heart Tree was smaller, younger, but still a Weirwood, and wildflowers bloomed everywhere instead of thistles and moss.

They stayed at Ashford for two days, much to the current Lord's delight, and on the morning of the third day their host lead them across the ford to Ashford Meadow, were a mock court had been set up. Lord Ashford held them for the morning, with pretend jousting and performers, and even a re-enactment of Aerion 'Brightflame' Targaryen breaking the fingers of the Dornish Puppeteer, Tanselle Too-Tall, and the Trial of Seven caused by Aerion and Daeron's false accusations after Ser Duncen the Tall had tried to defend her. When the performance was over the Lord of Ashford looked around at his guests, all bright smiles, expecting them to have enjoyed the show as much as he had, but few of them were smiling.

It was Ser Brienne that broke the cold silence. "Ser Duncan's shield, the one that Tanselle painted for him, lives in the armoury at Evenfall Hall." She said softly. "I was fascinated by it as a child, obsessed with it, but father would never let me claim it as my own."

"My Lady I… I did not realise." Lord Ashford apologised, looking somewhat abashed.

"Ser Brienne is not a Lady, she's a knight, just like Ser Duncan." Arya responded. "And like Ser Duncan she would have acted."

Lord Ashford nodded, his gaze suddenly moving to Jon. "It seems that in my excitement at such noble guests I forgot myself." He muttered. "Four Targaryen's were involved in that day-"

"Five." Aurane corrected.

Lord Ashford frowned and shook his head. "No, it was four, Baelor Breakspear fought to defend Ser Duncan, and died for it. Daeron, son of Maekar, was one of the false claimants, and wounded. There was Aerion Brigthflame, whom caused all the trouble to start with, he was forced to yield and withdraw the false claims, and their father, Maekar, fought beside them."

"And it was Egg, Aegon the unlikely, whom had run to Ser Duncan, begging him to stop the attack on Tanselle in the first place." Aurane replied calmly.

"If only Aegon had run up to his father…" Derren muttered. "He might have been able to stop his brothers."

Arya gave a bitter smile. "Yes, but then the game would have been up, and he would have been forced into behaving like a prince again. Ser Dunk might have had a heart attack on the spot, had he realised who his squire actually was."

Jon opened his mouth to speak, closed it, shook his head, then opened it again. "Wait… Aegon the fifth, Daeron, and Aerion Brightflame were all Maester Aemon's brothers?"

"Yes." Aurane replied.

Jon shook his head again. "But… Aemon only died a few moons ago! I… gods… what happened to my family? There were so many, and now there are so few… I…" He blinked away a tear. "Excuse me, I need a walk."

"Jon…" Arya muttered as he walked away, but Jon ignored her. She called again, louder this time. "Isaeyan!" he stopped and turned to look at her sadly.

"What, Arya?" Gods! He looked so sad!

"Let Galan and Derren walk with you." Arya replied.

Jon scoffed at that. "I have a dragon and a direwolf, I think I'm okay."

"You have a dragon and a direwolf because you _are_ a dragon and a direwolf." She answered back, begging him with his eyes to realise how much family he actually had, not just his blood, but people like Samwell, people like Tormund, who loved him well beyond the bonds of blood.

Jon just gave her a sad smile and shook his head. "No, I am no more Isaeyan Stark than you are Arya Tully." Then he turned away and started walking towards a grove of ash trees.

It took over an hour for Jon to return, and by then everybody else was more than ready to leave. Lord Ashford, embarrassed, had excused himself some time ago. As Jon returned to the group Ygritte greeted him with a hug. "Are you ready to leave?" She asked softly. Jon nodded, dropped a kiss on Eldrick's strawberry-blonde head, and took her hand softly.

"Yes," He replied. "Sorry for…" He let his words trail off, still looking lost.

"Sorry for being an idiot?" Ygritte asked. "Family is more than blood, they've been filling me in on the tales of Dunk and Egg while you've been feeling sorry for yourself, Dunk was more Egg's family than his brother was, look around, you are surrounded by family." She took his hand and placed it on her belly. "You want more Targaryen's? We make them."

Jon nodded and swallowed thickly, but he didn't look convinced. Arya studied them, Ygritte's pregnancy had hardly shown for the first five months last time, and looking at the slight curve of her belly Arya suddenly realised that Ygritte was pregnant again. Jon, however, seemed oblivious. Arya's thoughts went back to over a year earlier, when she and Jon had hidden from conversations about Robb's wedding in Winterfell's library. Arya suddenly wondered if it had been a mistake telling Jon about his relationship with his aunt in the other life, but he hadn't known who he really was then, and Ygritte had been long dead.

Arya's hand moved to her own belly, she was over five months pregnant now, and struggled to mount her horse. Jon was already trying to convince her to ride in the carts… it was folly to think that she was going to Meereen. "Isaeyan," She said softly. "I have the Elder seeds with me, why don't we find a spot to plant a tree, for Baelor Breakspear?" On impulse she plucked a seed head off of a wild lavender plant. "I wonder what would happen if we plant it with lavender?"

"Arya, you don't have to…" Jon whispered.

She just smiled at him. "I want to, come on, choose a spot." She replied.

Jon led them into the grove of ashes, to a small clearing scattered with wildflowers. Arya plucked a leaf from one of the surrounding trees and carefully placed the lavender seed head, and an elder tree seed in it, wrapping them together. Jon dug a small hole in the centre of the clearing with his hands and Arya placed the seed in it, covering it with a dusting of soil, she patted the earth gently. "In memory of Baelor Breakspear, whom died defending the innocence of a good man, and of the two Humfrey's, Hardying and Beesbury, whom died doing the same. In memory of Tanselle of Dorne, who was _not_ too tall." Arya let her gaze shift to Brienne as she stood and Brienne gave her a slight nod, but as the breeze whispered in the trees Arya realised she had more to say. "In memory of the young prince, Valarr, whom gave his father his armour as he was not permitted to enter the fight, and of the even younger prince, Matarys, for both lost their father that day. In memory of Kiera of Tyrosh, whom found only grief in motherhood." The whispering of the wind seemed to get louder and Arya realised that she had one more name to add to the list. "And in memory of Maegor, son of Aerion, whom lost his father, and his inheritance, in the same year that he was born, and whose fate is lost to us."

The small group stood in silence for a few minutes, head's bowed, then suddenly Roslin Frey, no it was Roslin Velaryon now, gasped. They all watched as small shoots sprouted from the ground and climbed upwards, the ground seemed to rumble a little under their feet, then suddenly there was a sapling in front of them, then a tree, but it was not an Elder Tree, and there was no sign of the lavender. It's bark was a pale bluish-white, and it's leaves were a deep purple, it was reminiscent of a Weirwood.

"What is it? "Aurane finally whispered.

"It's something new." A booming voice replied. "It seems you really are intent on healing this land, Princess Arya."

Hands moved to swords and people turned at their unexpected company, nobody had heard him approach. But Arya smiled, she took in the green stains on his hands and the twigs in his hair, the white of his lush hair and beard now seeming to have a slight greenish tinge to it. "Have you been watching me, Garth?"

"Oh yes, little one, I watch over all of my children." He replied, he reached out and touched her belly. "I see you finally accepted my gift, took you long enough."

"Wh-who are you?" Jon stuttered.

Garth the Greenhand turned towards him. "You know who I am, Isaeyan, your only conflict is that you are not yet sure who you are." He turned his attention back to Arya. "I need to go now, but take a closer look at that tree before you go, I think you'll find something that Prince Baelor lost a long time ago."

Arya turned back to the tree and frowned, suddenly she noticed something shiny sticking out of a knot in a low branch, the end of a key! It looked to be crafted from Valyrian Steel. She reached up to the tree and tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't come. "I need a knife." She muttered.

"Why don't you just ask the tree for it?" Garth responded, amused. "No need to cut it."

Arya frowned. She stopped trying to tug at the key and gently pressed the palm of her hand over the knot in the wood. How do you ask a tree to release what it is holding, she wasn't sure… or was she? She thought of the black pool at Winterfell, and how she had retrieved Dagrau'r Rhosyn's egg from it. "The last time I asked for something from a tree it wanted something important in return." She replied.

"Yes." Garth agreed.

Arya nodded, this key had to be important… Baelor Breakspear had been the Prince of Dragonstone at the time, could it be the key to the rooms Gendry couldn't open? The rooms above hers, in the head of the dragon? And if it was, what gift would suffice? The dagger that Yoren had given her hadn't been anything special, but it had been special to her, it had hurt to trade it for the dragon egg, instinctively Arya knew that this would have to hurt too. She thought of the pearls and diamonds in her hair… but trees don't care about monetary value… suddenly she knew. "Gendry forgive me." She whispered as she removed the dragon-shell comb from her hair. She knelt at the foot of the tree and buried the comb. Kneeling and standing was becoming harder and harder, she used the trunk of the tree to help her back up, then reached up and brushed her soil covered hand over the key, as she did so the key came loose in her hand. She turned back towards Garth, questions in her eyes, but he was gone.

~~/~~

Part 90:

There was a certain irony that their next destination was Blackhaven, the home of House Dondarrion, and not just because of Arya's history with Beric. It was another famous Dondarrion that consumed Arya's thoughts as they drew closer, Jena Dondarrion. She had been the wife of Baelor Breakspear, the then Prince of Dragonstone, and she had been the mother of Princes Valarr and Matarys, neither of whom had succeeded in producing heirs. There were other famous Dondarrion's of course, both Harmon and Simon had their parts to play in the war against the Vulture King, and Manfred Dondarrion had met his shame at the Tourney of Ashford Meadow for not vouching that Ser Duncan was a knight to the Master of Arms, despite knowing that it was true. But, perhaps the most famous of all, was the Bastard of Blackhaven, who's name history had forgotten, whom had died a fiery death (alongside Dickon Morrigen) leading the vanguard of Argilac the Arrogant. (The irony being that King Argilac would not accept a marriage treaty between Orys Baratheon and his daughter, Argella, because he believed Orys to be Aegon's bastard half-brother, yet he was happy to let a bastard be one of the leaders of his vanguard.)

As the days passed Arya let her thoughts wander, Jon remained silent and brooding, but this wasn't his normal brooding, it was something deeper. Arya wasn't the only one that was worried by Jon's mood, she and Aurane spoke in soft voices, ever since the accidental mention of Daenerys Jon's mood had become more depressing, and Aurane had become convinced that Jon would insist on going with them to Meereen, an idea which Arya strongly did not like. Jon's moods seemed to seep into Ghost and Dagrau'r Rhosyn too. Ghost would go off from the caravan more and more, and Dagrau would fly away for hours at a time, Arya was terrified that a stray arrow would catch one of them and they'd never be seen again. Dagrau was also getting noticeably larger, the dragon seemed to have hit a growth spirt, getting both longer and wider, and could no longer wrap herself around Jon comfortably, she'd be as large as the horses (and three times as long) soon if she kept growing at her current rate.

A week and a half after they left Ashford Meadow they arrived at Blackhaven. The new Lord was its former Steward, Darrion Dondarrion, formerly Darrion Storm. Arya did not know exactly how he was related to Beric, but she was happy that Renly had chosen to legitimise him without her prompting it. Darrion was a slim man in his mid to late twenties, he had the red-gold hair that his family was known for and a warm smile. He greeted them kindly, and ushered them into his home. To Arya's surprise Allyria and Ned Dayne were also there, Ally greeted her with a hug.

"Ally?" Arya gasped in surprise, accepting the taller woman's embrace. "What are you doing here?"

Ally and Darrion shared a guilty look, then Ally gave Arya a bright smile. "So… it turns out that Blackhaven has a Weirwood." She said softly. "And Darrion is unwed… I… the marriage pact between our Houses was a good match, and he is a good man…"

"You're married?! Congratulations!" Arya exclaimed, she embraced Ally again.

"Not married yet." Ally chuckled. "I ah… I suggested to our lovely king that I would keep the pact if he legitimised Darrion, but, since you were already traveling for weddings, we thought we would see if you wanted to attend another one?"

Arya's eyes widened. "Your messenger didn't mention that! We would have come sooner if we'd known!"

Ally's rich purplish-blue eyes sparkled as she smiled down at Arya. "That's exactly why we didn't want the messenger to mention that, come, you must be tired and hungry, let's get you a bath then some food."

Arya stomach grumbled in response. "Perhaps food should come first." She replied, blushing.

Ally simply laughed. "Darrion, we need to feed the pregnant woman." She gave Arya a warm smile and took her arm. "How about some food, a bath, then a feast? We have other guests that are eager to meet you." Arya nodded and allowed herself to be led.

Blackhaven was a modest Keep, practical and well built, and Darrion was a humble host, there were a mix of guests from both Dorne and the Stormlands. There was one guest which Arya hadn't been introduced to yet, who caught her attention, but every time she tried to make eye contact with him he looked away. The black hair and blue eyes were unmistakably Baratheon, as was his face, but his ears were surprisingly large, the square jaw helped offset it, but the ears were noticeable all the same. He wore his hair long, perhaps in an attempt to compensate for his ears. He was maybe a year or so younger than Gendry, although muscular for a noble of his age he had nothing on Gendry's strong build. He had the Baratheon height and strength, but still looked like he had some growing to do, perhaps his ears would look better if he packed a bit of muscle on?

Arya tried on a number of occasions to meet his gaze, but he seemed to be actively avoiding her. Frustrated, she eventually asked Aurane to retrieve Elenei and Robar from their table further down the hall and pointed the young man out to them. Elenei had no hesitations in going over and introducing herself, Robar trailing behind her, and soon the three were sitting and talking.

"Nicely played." Darrion complimented quietly. "Edric got quite nervous when I told him we'd invited you."

"Edric…" Arya muttered. She thought back to the list of names that her father had given her so many years ago. "Edric Storm of Storm's End?"

Darrion nodded. "His mother is Delena Florent, well, Delena Norcross now. Because his mother was highborn King Robert had little choice but to recognise him. He's estranged from her and his Norcross siblings, Robert sent him to Stannis, but Stannis didn't want him, so he ended up at Storm's End. Renly took pity on him, but I don't think they're very close, although Renly does seem to have Ser Cortnay Penrose, Storm's End's Castellan, grooming him to manage Storm's End recently."

Arya frowned. "Why hasn't Renly legitimised him yet then?"

Darrion shrugged. "That's a good question, all I know is that King Renly hasn't offered and Edric is too proud to ask. I think that's why he's avoiding you, he doesn't want your pity."

Arya raised an eyebrow at that. "Has it occurred to him that maybe his brothers and sisters would like the chance to get to know him?" She asked softly.

Darrion shook his head. "Probably not, he's had a lot of rejection over the years. Ser Cortnay is about the only person who really cared about him when he was younger, when we met he was a very lonely boy."

"And now that you're legitimised he feels even more alone." Jon muttered.

Darrion nodded. Arya wasn't sure who moved to their feet first, Jon or Aurane, but soon both were dragging chairs over from other tables to join Edric. After a few minutes Arya decided that she wanted to join them, she started to move to her feet, but a wave of dizziness set her falling and only Darrion's quick reactions caught her. "You move like Berric." She muttered, feeling slightly dazed.

"Arya!" Jon called out, rushing towards the table.

"I'm alright," Arya replied. "Just tired I think, it's been a long day."

Darrion released her and Ally took his place at her side, Roslin moving to her other side. Ygritte was suddenly there too, the three women helped her make her way around the table. Jon all but barged Roslin out of the way, taking her place. "Here, I've got you." He muttered.

"Roslin already had me." Arya responded, but she lent her head on his shoulder and let him guide her out of the room.

"Do you want me to carry you?" He asked softly.

Arya frowned. "Jon, I love you, but you're short like me, I don't think you could carry me right now."

"I could." A voice so much like Gendry's, but a little higher pitched, said from behind her.

Arya turned and smiled at Edric, she took a step towards him and stroked his cheek. "I believe you." She replied. "But what would people say if I let my husband's handsome younger brother carry me to my bedchambers?" Edric blushed and Arya let her hand drop away. "Gendry would already have me in his arms, and would be taking the stairs two at a time, I'm sure, if he was here. But I promise, I can manage it, with Jon's help."

Edric frowned. "Is it 'Jon' or 'Isaeyan'?" He asked confused.

"Is it 'Storm' or 'Baratheon'?" Arya replied in challenge. "You've been a 'Storm' all your life, even if I rode straight to King's Landing and demanded that Renly legitimise you you'd still feel like a 'Storm'. Isaeyan is the name Jon's mother gave him, and technically he is my cousin, but he will always be my favourite brother, and he will always be Jon to me."

"That's not fair on Robb and Bran." Jon muttered.

Arya shrugged. "Maybe not," She agreed, "But it's true, you've always been my favourite brother, if it makes you feel any batter I think both Bran and Robb would say you were their favourite brother too."

Jon rolled his eyes. "I doubt it." He muttered.

Arya sighed. "Ygritte's right, you know nothing."

"Hey, careful. If you're feeling well enough to tease I might just let you tackle those stairs by yourself." Jon retorted.

Arya pulled away from him. "Fine then, Edric, on second thoughts, I accept your offer."

"I…" Edric looked suddenly embarrassed, and at a loss as to what to do.

"Don't worry, they're always like this." Aurane declared, approaching from behind. "My Princess," He took Arya's hand and dropped a kiss on the back of it, before linking his arm in hers. "Your bedchambers await."

Roslin slipped into the gap between Arya and Jon, who was looking stunned, and wrapped her arm around Arya's waist. " _My_ Princess." She teased.

"Oh, come now, wife, what's yours is mine." Aurane retorted with a smirk and the two started leading Arya away.

"Arya?" Jon questioned.

"I'm fine, Jon," Arya called behind her. "I'm in good hands, go back to the feast."

~~/~~

Arya was aware of people checking in on her at various stages during the night, no matter how she turned she couldn't get comfortable, and every time she woke up she needed to make water. Roslin was there the first time, but was replaced at some stage by Elenei, then Saia, the fourth time that Arya woke up it was Ygritte that helped her squat over the chamber pot.

"It's not fair." Arya complained as Ygritte helped her stand.

"What's not fair?" Ygritte questioned.

Arya touched Ygritte's slightly rounded stomach. "Look at you, and look at me, then tell me honestly, which of us is more pregnant?"

Ygritte sighed and tucked Arya back into the bed. "You're pregnant with more." She replied. "Eldrick was small, and I was lucky, the women in my family usually have easy pregnancies, I'm about four moons along, one moon less than you."

"And Jon hasn't even realised yet, has he?" Arya asked.

Ygritte chuckled. "No." She replied.

"Why keep it from him?" Arya asked.

"Why burden him with it?" Ygritte replied. "I've got a better question, what am I missing about this Daenerys?"

Arya chewed her lip, she felt conflicted, was it really her place to explain it to Ygritte? But then, it was Arya that had told Jon about the other life… maybe Ygritte would talk some sense into him? She sighed and patted the bed. "If you really want to know it's a long story, you might want to get comfortable."

Ygritte nodded and settled down on the far side of the bed. "Alright, I'm comfortable."

Arya nodded. "Good, first of all, what do you know about the Three Eyed Raven?" Slowly Arya explained to Ygritte how she had lived before, how they had fought the Night King and failed, and how Bran had helped her do a bloodmagic ritual that had given them all a second chance. She explained that in the first timeline Ygritte had been long out of Jon's life before he had met Daenerys, and how he hadn't known that Daenerys was his Aunt. She explained when she had explained all of this to Jon, and why.

Ygritte was silent for a long while after Arya stopped speaking, but finally she spoke. "He has to go to Meereen then, he has to face her. Not only is she his Aunt, but she's a woman that he could have loved, he'll never truly be mine until he's faced her."

"He loved you first, in the other timeline, I'm sure of that." Arya replied.

"Then where was I?!" Ygritte snapped, suddenly sounding unsure of herself.

"Probably dead, lots of people died." Arya answered.

"You don't know that." Ygritte whispered.

"No," Arya agreed. "I don't." She reached out and took Ygritte's hand. "Shall we see what the Three Eyed Raven can see?" She thought of Nymeria, the scent of her fur. She thought of the Weirwood at Winterfell, of the cool water of the Black Pool, of the smells of peat, moss, and earth. She thought of Summer, the yellow of the direwolf's eyes, the hints of silver in his fur, she thought of Bran… and eventually she thought of Bloodraven.

Suddenly she was standing at the foot of the Winterfell Heart Tree, Ygritte's hand was still in hers, Nymeria was there, and Summer, Bran and Bloodraven. Ygritte looked around in amazement, but Bloodraven started striding towards Arya in anger. "How did you summon us!" He demanded, grabbing her arm.

"I told you last time," Arya replied. "This is our sacred place, a Stark place."

"You still shouldn't be able to!" He demanded.

Arya glared at him and shook her hand free. "Who are you, a Targaryen, to tell me what a Beal Rose of House Stark can and cannot do?"

"I'm not a Targaryen!" Bloodraven snapped.

"Yes, you are, your father legitimised you on his death bed, but I guess to admit that is to admit that Daemon might have had the better claim. Wouldn't it be funny if Aegor was right all along?"

"You have some nerve." Bloodraven growled.

"It's going to take more than 'some nerve' to defeat the Night King." Arya replied. "I'm here to ask a question, I have lived two lives, can things that happened in my other life, but that I didn't know of, be seen?"

"You're asking to look at a branch that has been cut off, it's impossible." Bloodraven declared.

Arya shook her head. "A branch that has been cut off would leave behind a mark…" She looked at the Heart Tree and frowned, it looked somehow different to how she remembered, it was subtle, but it was there, a single branch in a slightly different place. But it was so high up, how could she…? She'd need wings to get up there! Suddenly she thought of the kestrel, Arryn, and a moment later the small falcon was on her shoulder. She returned her attention to Bloodraven. "Thank you, I have my answer, you can go now."

Bloodraven's eyes narrowed. "Whatever you think you're going to do…"

"Go!" Arya commanded. "Be gone, I cast you out!" Suddenly there was a flurry of black wings where Bloodraven had stood, then he was gone.

"You shouldn't have done that." Bran said softly.

"He's showing you half-truths." Arya replied. "I don't trust him, take Meera and Hodor and go."

Bran gave her a sad smile. "It's not so simple, the ink is already dry for Hodor."

Arya shook her head. "Is it? I'm about to travel a branch that we cut off together, come with me, see for yourself." She took his hand, and Ygritte's, then she warged into Arryn and flew up into the tree. She found the place where the branch had changed, one shoot knocked away and another taking its place, and landed there, she could somehow feel that Bran and Ygritte were with her, she focused on Jon and tried to travel the branch that had been cut off.

 _A cave with warm springs, Jon on his knees, Ygritte moaning…_

"I don't want to see this." Arya muttered.

"I do." Ygritte replied.

 _The top of the Wall, Jon and Ygritte standing together, Jon embraced her and kissed her…_

 _"I have to go home now." Jon whispered sadly from his horse. Ygritte strung her bow, tears in her eyes, but at the last moment she changed the angle of her shot to make sure it wouldn't kill him, she didn't want to kill him, but she wanted to make him hurt like she was hurting, she put another two arrows into him for good measure._

"I did that this time too." Ygritte muttered. "How come you can feel what I was feeling? That's creepy."

"It's all a little creepy really." Bran replied softly. "But I've never felt people's feelings before, only seen their actions."

 _Jon standing on trial at Castle black, begging them to listen to him, warning them of the impending attack… then the battle itself, the moment that Jon saw Ygritte, the air was thick with the conflicting emotions pouring off of each of them. He couldn't kill her, he loved her… then suddenly an arrow was blossoming in her chest and she was dying in his arms… He took her body north of the Wall, built a pyre, alone, and burnt her body._

Arya was aware that Ygritte was weeping beside her, she stated to pull back to the Heart tree, but Ygritte's voice stopped her. "I want to see more." Ygritte whispered. "I want to see him with the dragon queen."

They kept skipping forwards. _Jon went to meet Mance beyond the Wall, he intended to break guest right and kill him. Jon didn't care that he would likely die himself, but at the last minute an unexpected army, led by Stannis Baratheon, changed everything… Jon being elected Lord Commander… Stannis, offering to legitimise Jon and give him Winterfell, Jon refusing… Melisandre trying to seduce Jon, she was also refused._

"I don't like her." Ygritte muttered.

"Don't worry, she's a tree now." Arya replied

 _Hardhome… the meeting was going well until the Night King attacked… Castle Black, an argument about taking the Wildlings in… Stannis going south to liberate Winterfell from the Bolton's… Ser Davos being sent back… Then came Melisandre… Jon being killed by the brothers of the Night's Watch… Melisandre trying to bring him back, but she failed, it was obvious that she failed. Yet Ser Davos refused to give up on him, there was a moment where Ser Davos and Ghost were the only ones in the room with him, then Ser Davos left and… something… ?... had it been Ser Davos? Had it been Ghost?... suddenly Jon was awake…_

For a moment it felt as if Jon was looking straight at Arya, then the branch was gone and she was falling… Arya landed heavily on the ground, Ygritte and Bran were also on the ground on either side of her.

"I… that was different." Ygritte muttered.

Bran was lying on the ground, looking up at the tree. "I wonder what other broken branches can be travelled down?" He muttered.

"I don't know." Arya replied, groaning and sitting up, every part of her body aching. "But get your own damn bird next time, that hurt."ere

"I will." Bran replied softly. "A raven maybe? I… think I should go now."

"Bran, tell Meera to look for Dark Sister." Arya advised.

Bran smiled at her. "I will." He replied, "Tell Jon he is my favourite brother." And then he was gone.

Arya allowed herself to fall back onto the ground. "I think we should wake up now." She said softly and brought their minds back to their bodies, back to the room at Blackhaven.

~~/~~


	19. Chapters 91 - 95

Part 91:

Jon's brooding had been replaced by hovering concern, and it was almost enough to make Arya want to scream. It was nearly enough to make her point out that Ygritte was also pregnant, but she didn't. If it had been just Jon it might not have been so bad, but Jon was a warg with a direwolf and a dragon. Hovering direwolves are bad… hovering, maternal, dragons… Ghost followed her like, well, like a ghost, and every time that she stepped outside Dagrau made a beeline for her. It was nice… and frustrating… sweet… and annoying… and she loved Jon for it, she truly did, but she wasn't sure how much more of it she could take, and it wasn't the only thing frustrating her. She had finally admitted that she could no longer wear her weapons, although five and a half months pregnant she actually looked as if she was due any day. Jon insisted she let the local Maester look at her, but he was no more helpful than the Maester at Highgarden, all he advised was for her to rest and to eat more. Arya couldn't understand why everybody was telling her she was too thin when she felt as round as Wyman Manderly!

The days passed slowly, Arya had never been fond of political intrigue, yet she found herself right in the middle of it once again. Blackhaven was on the borders of the Stormlands, partly up the Bone Road to Dorne. It seemed to Arya that the Storm King had given the House's founder a poor reward for loyal service. Yes, the man had been raised up from the common people to a position of Landed Lord, something which would have inspired loyalty for generations, but the land given made him a shield against Dorne and the Reach. The 'Dornish Marches' of which the land was part of (the lands where all of the marches on Dorne had started) had been contested for over eight thousand years. Yet House Dondarrion's loyalty had never wavered in all of their long history, not all Marcher Lords could speak so proudly. They had been a shield against Dorne long before Aegon conquered the Seven Kingdoms, and had continued to be a shield long after. The fact that Baelor Breakspear had chosen a woman of such lineage to be his potential future Queen spoke volumes to the possible wisdom and good leadership of that particular branch of House Targaryen, and Arya found herself wondering what sort of King he would have made if he had lived. Then again, maybe he had just thought Jena to be pretty? Who could say?

Arya had to admit that Darrion was a very good host, she found herself tiring easily, yet Darrion always seemed to manage to have her excused from events without much fuss, even suggesting that maybe she needed a break before she would admit that she needed one herself. Blackhaven's libraries and Maester were made readily available to her. In the three days leading up to the wedding Arya spent half of her time browsing the older manuscripts, looking for something of interest. She was often joined by Jon or Aurane, or both, and she ended up setting them to the task of looking for the oldest documents in hopes that they might yield some pearl of wisdom in regards to the Night King. She didn't find anything of the sort, but it was interesting all the same.

Looking at the family's histories was interesting however, she found a journal, written by a fifteen year old Gormae Storm, with a detailed account of the Tourney at Blackhaven in 247AC where Prince Duncan the Small (later to be known as the Prince of Dragonflies) had defeated Ser Barristan Selmy. Interestingly enough Gormae had been forbidden to attend the tourney and had apparently dyed his blonde hair black as a disguise. He had met Prince Duncan, and felt a strange kinship to him. Gormae's journal claimed that Prince Duncan had looked at him strangely, and asked him if he had Targaryen blood in his veins. It was unfortunately a question that Gormae could not answer as he did not know who his mother was. The prince's parting comment had been a strange one, that the name 'Gormae' seemed very much like the name 'Maegor' rearranged. Gormae apparently didn't like that very much.

Sometimes, instead of going to the libraries, Arya would retire to the Godswood. It was smaller than Winterfell's, but then most were, the trees were different too. That was where Arya had gone today, she ran her hand along the bark of an impressive redwood as her thoughts wandered. When she had been told as a child that Winterfell's Godswood was part of the old forest, and that Dorne had only been lost to sand after that forest had been cut down, she had imagined a dense world of grey-green sentinels, black ironwoods and white weirwoods as far as the eye could see. However, between Ashford's Godswood and this one, she was starting to realise that the old forest had been as vast and varied as the ground it covered. But that begged the question, didn't it? If different parts of the old forest were vastly different then was the same true for their inhabitancies? Had all of the Children of the Forest been in agreement when the Night King was made? Or had it been a rouge faction working alone?

She slowly threaded her way through the forest, often walking around redwoods almost a dozen feet wide, glimpses of the clear blue sky showing through between the bright green leaves above. Oh yes, there were pines and ashes, oaks and sentinels, and a smattering of weirwoods, but it was the redwoods that dominated here. Ghost dogged her footsteps loyally as she wandered, her mind wandering as much as her body did, as she opened up to this new chain of thought and the possibilities that it offered up.

Derren and Galan seemed content to walk behind her in silence. As Arya approached the Heart Tree she studied it, looking for differences instead of similarities, the face carved in it was distinctively different to the face carved into the Winterfell one… Derren and Galan maintained a respectful distance as she approached the weirwood. Arya contemplated the face, her mind drifting to the Children of the Forest that had carved it oh so long ago. She had questions that only the Children could answer, yet she had decided that she did not trust the ones that Bran was talking to, the ones that had created the Night King in the first place, and she certainly did not trust Bloodraven.

A cracking stick drew Arya from her thoughts and caused her left hand to reach instinctively for the blade that she could no longer find a practical way to carry. Her head turned quickly and her hand found air at the same time as her eyes found Edric Strom. "Edric…" She breathed, the first word that she had spoken in well over an hour.

Edric looked suddenly embarrassed. "Forgive me, Princess Arya, I did not mean to interrupt your praying."

"Just Arya, forget the 'princess' bit." Arya replied. "And I wasn't praying, I was… contemplating."

Edric looked thoughtful. "Are they so different? Pri – Arya? Praying and contemplating, I mean."

Arya studied him. "Did you pray that one day King Robert would decide to come and be a father to you? To take you to King's Landing and make you a prince? Or did you contemplate it?" She watched pain and sadness wash over his face and suddenly felt guilty that she hadn't thought of a kinder example.

"I prayed for it." He finally replied.

"Then they are different." Arya sighed, she'd started down this path, she might as well continue. "And when Robert died and Renly named himself a King? And when this stranger, Gendry, this Fleabottom bastard, rode in to Renly's camp, with a hammer in his hand and a Stark at his side, and claimed everything that you had ever prayed for, what did you pray for then?"

Edric was suddenly unable to meet her gaze, instead finding his feet extremely fascinating. "Bad things." He replied.

Arya nodded. "Would you like to talk about it?" She asked softly.

"I…" Edric looked nervous.

"Here, help me sit." Arya said, she made the words an instruction, not a request, knowing that he would feel obliged to obey. He nodded and slowly walked towards her, she took his offered arm and rested her hand against the tree to lower herself onto the ground. "Gods, I hate this!" She muttered. "Why does being pregnant have to be so impractical, it's stupid!" Edric laughed, then suddenly looked embarrassed that he had done so. Arya patted the ground beside her. "Sit, let's talk, I'll talk first, I'll tell you what I know about your siblings."

~~/~~

The wedding happened four days after they had arrived, the actual wedding itself happening early in the afternoon. Ned Dayne looked nervous, but proud, as he gave his aunt away and Allyria looked radiant. Her dress was white silk, trimmed with purple satin. Her black curls were mostly loose and she wore a flower crown of purple violets, yellow hearted violas, pale primroses, and baby's breath. Darrion's red-gold hair was brushed until it shone, looking almost like rose-gold, and he was dressed in black trimmed with purple, the colours of his house.

Almost everybody's eyes were on Ally as she walked up the aisle, but Arya's attention was on the nervous groom, and the frail looking old man beside him. The man looked as old as Walder Frey, and age had driven his pale hair white, yet age had not bent him, the old man stood to his full height (which wasn't very tall) looking extremely proud to be standing beside Darrion.

"Who is that?" Arya whispered to Aurane.

Aurane smiled. "That's old Gormae Storm, he's Darrion's great grandfather."

"Gormae…" She muttered. "I read one of his old journals."

Aurane nodded. "No doubt, it's rumoured that Gormae fell in love with his half-sister, Jordarna Dondarrion, and that they wed in secret, although some stories say she was his cousin, his parentage has never been confirmed. The scholars of Oldtown wold tell you differently, but many say he is the father of the current House Dondarrian, and Darrion's grandsire twice over. Let's just say that part of their family tree is a bit murky, and that the official version isn't likely to be the truth."

Arya frowned, she watched the old man step back as Allyria approached the alter and take his seat, Ned Dayne taking the seat beside him. He moved with surprising grace considering his age. She was missing something she was sure she was, but she just couldn't place it. The feast was held outside and Darrion had insisted that the children were welcome, Alyssa and Eldrick were happily making themselves the centre of attention, but Eldrick was starting to get a bit over excited. Ygritte tried to take him away from the feast but he escaped her grasp and ran away from her. Darrion managed to intercept him and delivered him back to his mother. Arya found herself frowning, comparing Eldrick's strawberry-blonde hair to Darrion's red-gold hair. It was then that Arya realised what her wondering mind had been trying to tell her. "Not Gormae… Maegor." She whispered. "Maegor, son of Aerion."

"What?" Jon questioned from a couple of seats over.

Arya was so caught up in her revelation that she didn't consider the consequences of her next words. "You're not the true Targaryen heir," she said softly and pointed at Gormae. "He is, the Great Council passed him over for Aegon, but by birth right it should have been him."

Silence. Absolute silence. Arya looked around and suddenly realised what she had done. Darrion was standing there frozen, Eldrick still in his arms. Everybody was looking at her, her eyes moved to Gormae, who suddenly looked frailer than a few moments ago. Gormae stood slowly, he gaze never leaving Arya's. "You are wrong, Princess Arya, I am Gormae Storm. I have been Gormae Storm for seventy years and I am far too old to become anybody else now. I am just a tired old man, now if you'll all excuse me…" He turned and started to walk away.

But Arya couldn't let it be, she spoke again, causing him to turn back. "Prince Duncan saw it, he asked you if you had Targaryen blood, and he pointed out that Gormae is simply Maegor rearranged. You are Maegor, trueborn son of Aerion, trueborn son of Daenora-"

"Arya stop!" Jon snapped. "I know your intentions are good, but you need to stop. I know you think you're helping, but you're not, you're only hurting him. Yes, maybe you're right, maybe you've found a hidden Targaryen? I don't know. But can't you see the pain in his eyes? Can't you see that no good can come of this? Just let it be." Jon had tears in his eyes.

Arya suddenly realised that Jon wasn't just talking about Gormae's pain, but about his own. "I…"

"I know," Jon whispered. "You spent your entire life watching me beg for my mother's name, just a name, nothing more. Now try thinking what seventy years of that must be like. Now he knows, so what? You're about sixty years too late."

Jon walked over to Darrion and plucked Eldrick out of his arms, he then briskly walked away from the feast, Ygritte following closely behind. Gormae also turned to leave the feast, walking in a different direction, and Darrion quickly followed after him. People began to murmur and talk, and Arya sank deeper in her seat, suddenly wishing that she could disappear.

Roslin touched her arm gently. "Come on," She said softly. "I think we should put Alyssa down for a nap."

Arya nodded and silently allowed herself to be lead away from the feast, she felt ashamed, how could she have been so insensitive? After they put Alyssa down Arya decided that it would be good for her to have a lay down too. But as she lay there, staring at the wall, sleep would not come. Frustration eventually drove her to the godswood, but as she approached the Heart Tree she realised that Gormae was already there, his hand leaning against the tree and his eyes shut, tears staining his cheeks.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Go away." He muttered, his eyes still closed. "I don't want to talk to you, go away."

Arya shook her head even though he couldn't see her and took a step closer. "I didn't mean…" She began. "I didn't think, I'm sorry… I know I should have kept my mouth shut and talked to you privately… I… I thought it would be a good thing, to know that you are not a bastard, that you were not a mistake… I…"

"Go away." He pleaded. "Please, just go away."

Arya nodded and turned to walk away, but she couldn't leave it be at that. "If you want to hate me, hate me, but please, talk to Isaeyan, he's struggling with his parentage too."

"If I agree to talk to him will you go away?" He asked.

"Yes." Arya replied.

"I agree then, go away."

Arya nodded and turned away, she made her way out of the godswood slowly and returned to her chambers. Gods she wished Gendry was here, he'd tell her how to make this right. She really hadn't meant any harm, she hadn't thought, she simply hadn't thought, she really needed to learn when to keep her mouth shut.

~~/~~

Part 92:

Breakfast was an uncomfortable affair, their hosts were noticeably absent, and Jon was more withdrawn and brooding than normal, even Aurane was less than his jovial self. Arya suggested that they move on today and everybody agreed, however they was no way to leave quickly, three hundred people take quite a bit of organising, while things were being arranged Arya decided to make one last visit to the godswood. She wasn't sure how long she was there, lost in her thoughts, before Allyria joined her.

"I here you're leaving." Ally said softly as she approached.

Arya nodded. "Yes."

"You don't have to."

Arya shook her head and gave Ally a sad smile. "I think I've outstayed my welcome. I… please make Gormae understand that I'm sorry."

"And Darrion?" Ally asked, her expression carefully unreadable. "What shall I tell him when he returns?"

Arya frowned. "Returns?" She questioned.

Ally nodded solemnly. "Yes, returns, he left last night, with a handful of men, intent on riding hard to King's Landing." Ally sighed. "Things often get twisted in the repeating, he wanted to ensure that King Renly heard the first account of yesterday's events from him, along with a reaffirmation of House Dondarrion's loyalty."

Arya's frown deepened, last night… did that mean…? "Gods." She muttered. "So I've robbed you of your wedding night."

Ally shrugged. "Or saved me from a bedding." She gave Arya a weak smile. "Given what happened yesterday it is probably best that our marriage not be consummated until we are confident that we have our King's blessing."

Arya's mouth gapped open in shock at what Ally was implying. "What happens if Renly doesn't give his blessing?" She asked softly.

"Well, as King, he could revoke Darrion's legitimisation and seize Blackhaven and its lands. In that situation the best possible outcome is that Darrion would take the Black, the marriage would be annulled, and I would return to Starfall."

Arya shook her head. "Renly wouldn't…"

Allyria gave her a sad smile. "I hope not, but hope is a luxury I can little afford. Do me one favour, Princess Arya, ride slowly, allow Darrion time to finish his business with our King before you return to King's Landing, the last thing we need is for King Renly to think we are conspiring against him. If your paths do cross in King's Landing, be reserved."

"I…" Arya didn't quite know how to respond to that.

"I like you, as a person, but politically we require distance from you… for now, Princess Arya." Ally replied. Before Arya could respond the taller woman turned and walked away, leaving her stunned.

~~/~~

Arya hated riding in the cart, every bump on the road made her back ache, and no matter how she sat she couldn't get comfortable. After a couple of hours of travel Ghost had suddenly decided to join her in the cart, and she was grateful for his company. Roslin did her best to make Arya comfortable, but nothing worked. After they had stopped for lunch Ygritte suggested that she might be better off lying down. Blankets and cushions were arranged in a different cart and Arya did her best to settle into them. Ghost again joined her, and so did Alyssa and Saia. Arya ended up falling into an uneasy sleep with Ghost pressed against one side of her and Alyssa cuddling into her chest.

Arya again found herself standing on a giant Cyvasse board, she could see other boards in the distance, on one board she could see an opponent whose pieces were craved of ice facing an opponent whose pieces were craved of weirwood, but she was too far away to see the layout of the pieces, on another board she could see her pieces, but she could not see her opponent. Arya studied the board that she was on, she recognised the pieces on one side as being Daenerys', the Cyvasse pieces that represented the two smaller dragons still had chains around their necks, but their heads were no longer bowed, they were lifted up as if in a roar of rage. Each dragon had ripped one talon free from their alabaster basses. There were lines of Unsullied and a few Dothraki. To the side of the board she saw a piece that looked like Jorah Mormont, but the alabaster base had been torn from it and it looked as though the piece had been tossed aside. Looking at the Unsullied pieces Arya recognised a few, including Grey Worm, but there was also a lone knight in the shape of Ser Barristan Selmy, Daenerys also had a single pyramid.

Arya studied the rabble of the opponent, all of them wore golden masks with horns, the opponent did not have dragons, but they had a number of large pyramids, each with a harpy on top of it. One of the pyramids was red, and the harpy on top of it had a chain with open manacles at either end clasped in its talons. Another pyramid was yellow, and this one's harpy grasped a whip and an iron collar in its talons.

Arya realised that she was in the centre of the board, and that the pieces were advancing on her from both sides, when had they started moving? She ducked out of the way of a horde of mask wearing rabble, only to almost get run down by advancing Unsullied, she heard screeching overhead and looked up to see the black Cyvasse piece that represented Drogon flying off… she jumped onto the only pyramid on Daenerys' side, the harpy had been removed but the broken talons of its feet remained. As Arya scurried up the stepped side of the pyramid it seemed to grow larger and larger, or was she shrinking? Suddenly there were obstacles in Arya's way, men tied to crucifixes, one hand nailed to their chests. The men started to rip their other hand free and try to grab at her. They called out to her in a mix of Old Ghiscari and High Valyrian, and she was only able to pick out a few of the words.

One man managed to catch her with his arm and she turned to look at him. "Se zaldrīzes brags se brōzi 'Mhysa', yn issa morghon!"

Arya understood that 'Mhysa' was the Ghiscari word for 'Mother' and 'Se zaldrīzes' meant 'The dragon' in High Valyrian, but the rest was lost on her. "I don't understand." She replied, trying to pull herself free.

But that only made the man look more desperate. "Se zaldrīzes brags se brōzi 'Mhysa', yn issa morghon!" He repeated.

"I'm sorry," She shook her head. "I don't understand, shifang nyke ȳdra daor." She wasn't sure if she'd gotten her words in the right order, but she remembered that 'daor' had to go at the end to give the sentence a negative meaning. She'd studied a little High Valyrian when she was younger, which had helped with the broken 'Low Valyrian' that she's learnt in Braavos in the other life, but the Ghiscari words threw her. Suddenly a giggle caught her attention, Alyssa! Correct High Valyrian grammar quickly became the least of her worries, Arya ripped herself free of the man and started climbing faster, Alyssa was crawling on a ledge above her.

Alyssa stopped by a window and pointed. "Da!" She exclaimed, giggling. "Dra, da!"

Arya was panting by the time she caught up with Alyssa, she looked through the window that held Alyssa's attention, it looked into a large underground vault, Rhaegal and Viserion were in there, large chains around their necks. "Dragons." She agreed softly. "Lissy, we have to go." But as she reached for Alyssa the toddler slipped through her fingers and climbed inside the window. "Lissy, no!" Arya hissed, her pregnant belly making it difficult for her to climb after the child. "These aren't friendly dragons." She struggled through the window and landed on the hard stone as quietly as she could.

The window disappeared once they had slipped through it and the vault was dark, Arya caught Alyssa and scooped her up, but there was no way out. Alyssa seemed suddenly afraid and cuddled into Arya's chest. Arya had to jut her hip out on quite an angle to hold Alyssa due to her pregnant belly, that meant there was no way that she could move quickly to hide or defend them if they were attacked, she hated feeling so vulnerable. Suddenly doors high above were pushed open, sending sunlight spilling down a vast set of stone steps, Arya pulled back against one of the walls, she watched in silence as Daenerys made her way down the stairs alone.

As Daenerys moved deeper into the vault she called out to Rhaegal and Viserion, but the dragons hung back. Suddenly there was a burst of dragon fire and the dragons lurched at Daenerys, causing her to draw back in fear. She was afraid of them! Daenerys couldn't control her dragons, and was afraid of them! Arya shook her head as she struggled to deal with this realisation. This was not the Daenerys that she had met, this was not the proud, arrogant, dragon rider that had told Sansa that dragon's eat whatever they want. Or maybe it was? Maybe that reply had been a telling truth as much as a poorly veiled threat? If Daenerys had never set any boundaries for her dragons when they were small, if she'd never trained them, then how could she control them?

The thought made Arya sick. She thought back to the day that she had received Nymeria, she could still remember her father's stern words. **_"Direwolves are not pets, you will care for them yourselves, you will train them yourselves, and if they die you'll bury them yourselves."_** And train them they had, Sansa and Arya had always had arguments about their training methods, but Arya had trained Nymeria, she just hadn't tried to turn the direwolf into a dog. Any one of the Stark direwolves would respond to any Stark calling their name followed by the words 'to me', even Shaggy Dog, for all of his wildness.

Another burst of dragon fire brought Arya back to the current dilemma, she needed to get Alyssa and her out of there. Rhaegal advanced on Daenerys again and Daenerys backed up against a pillar, Arya took the opportunity to make her way up the stairs, she didn't know what she would do once she got to the top, surely there would be guards, and her arms were full, holding Alyssa. But when she reached the top of the stairs she found herself on the outside of the pyramid again.

"Arya, wake up." Jon called out to her. Arya turned at the sound of Jon's voice, but Jon wasn't there, Ghost was though. Alyssa squirmed, trying to get out of Arya's arms and Arya had to put her down before she dropped her. Alyssa ran over to Ghost and hugged him, squealing with delight, then suddenly Ghost and Alyssa were gone. "Arya, please, we're at Summerhall, you need to wake up." Jon pleaded.

"Jon? Where are you?" Arya called out. She tried to bring herself back to the cart, just as she had brought Ygritte and herself back to the room at Blackhaven, but it didn't work. "Jon? Jon, where are you?" She yelled.

"Arya, please, please wake up." Jon called, he was starting to sound desperate. Arya looked around at the Cyvasse board, the pieces were still fighting. The Cyvasse piece that represented Drogon flew towards her and landed on the top of the Meerenesse pyramid, holding his alabaster base in one talon and looking directly at her. "Arya, please!" Jon sounded like he was sobbing, but Arya couldn't bring herself to break Drogon's gaze.

She started climbing up the pyramid again, the men on crucifixes all trying to grab at her and shove her down, and the Cyvasse piece in the shape of a dragon watching her. She seemed to climb for a very long time, suddenly a hand caught the hem of her dress and pulled, sending her falling, she tried desperately to catch a hold of something, anything, as she fell, but she kept falling. Her hand caught something at the base of a crucifix, but the object came loose, as she looked down she saw it was a harpy mask in her hand, she fell through another window, landing with a soft thud on a pile of grain sacks.

She was in an open market, the smell of food cooking and the sound of children playing and laughing was everywhere. She could see Ser Barristan ahead of her, he was smiling, and Grey Worm wasn't far away from him, Grey Worm wasn't exactly smiling, but he wasn't frowning either. Somebody yelled, then another person screamed. Suddenly five or six people, wearing golden harpy masks and brandishing weapons, ran through the square. They ran close to Ser Barristan and into another alleyway, Ser Barristan and Grey Worm were in pursuit immediately.

"Arya…" Jon's voice sounded far way.

Arya hesitated, she looked down at the mask in her hand, when she flipped it over she saw a five pointed red leaf in it, a weirwood leaf. She pulled the leaf out and it changed from red to purple in her hand, she let it fall to the ground and it changed to blue, then faded away. "Jon, I'm sorry." She whispered, and ran into the alleyway after Ser Barristan, the mask still clutched in her hand.

Where there had been half a dozen men in masks there were now closer to twenty, it had been a trap, and Ser Barristan and Grey Worm had run right into it. Arya knew that she had to help them, but how? She tried summoning a winter wind, but that didn't work… she needed numbers… she needed… Nymeria! No sooner had she thought of her direwolf than Nymeria seemed to burst out of her chest and jump into the street in front of her. Nymeria was there, but she was somewhat translucent, Arya could see right through her. Arya frowned, then she raised her hand up in front of her face and realised that she was also translucent, ghostly. But, as the trap closed around Ser Barristan and Grey Worm, she didn't have time to think about it. She held the mask in her hand up for Nymeria to see. "This is the enemy."

Nymeria seemed to give a nod of understanding and let out a long howl before turning to attack the people in masks, as Nymeria moved forward her pack followed, hounds, wolves, even pups, bursting through Arya's chest and into the cobbled alleyway one after another. The last dog to come through was Tiny. Arya frowned. "Tiny, why aren't you with father?"

"He is."

Arya turned at the sound of her father's voice, her mouth gaping. He looked tired, and somehow older, the black furs of his Night's Watch cloak seemed harsh against his pale skin. "Father." She whispered.

He gave her a sad smile. "I could ask for an explanation, but now doesn't seem the time, who are we fighting?" Arya held up the mask, her father nodded and surveyed the alleyway, pulling his sword. "Is that…?"

"Ser Barristan." Arya confirmed. "We're in Meereen."

Her father nodded, he swung his sword at the closest opponent but the blade went straight through the man without harming him. "I…"

"You have to concentrate, focus on the blade and make it real here." Bran said softly from behind them. Arya and Ned turned as one, Bran was standing behind them, and towering over both of them, Summer at his feet. "This is interesting," Bran muttered. "I've never seen beyond Westeros before."

Ned frowned and nodded. "Focus on the blade." He muttered, he swung at another man attacking Ser Barristan and cut him down. He took down another two attackers as Summer and Nymeria took out others.

Suddenly somebody was swinging at him, but another blade blocked the strike, a very familiar blade, a giant Valyrian greatsword. Arya turned to see Robb, his crown seeming to blaze on his forehead as he cut down another masked attacker. "I take it these are the enemy?" He asked.

Arya nodded. "Yes, protect Ser Barristan."

"Protect yourselves." Ser Barristan muttered.

Arya turned to look at him in surprise. "You can hear me?"

"Hear you, see you, see right through you, right now I'll take all the help I can get." Ser Barristan swung at another opponent.

"We don't need help from demons." Grey Worm snarled.

"They're not demons, they're Stark's." Ser Barristan replied calmly.

"Oh, this is great." Sansa muttered. "Arya, what the hells is this, and why am I here, I'm not a fighter."

Arya spun around to face her sister. "Lady is!" She replied, looking at the direwolf at Sansa's feet.

"Lady has recently given birth to pups!" Sansa snapped. "And look at you! You are far too pregnant for this, what the hells are we doing here, Arya?!"

Arya frowned. "Ask Bran, he's the three eyed raven." "How many pups?" Robb said at the same time.

"Future three eyed raven." Bran replied. "And I didn't do this, neither did Bloodraven, but since we're here… Summer, watch out!"

Ghost was suddenly on top of the man that would have hurt Summer, and Dagrau'r Rhosyn was growling at the rest of the men, who took one look at the translucent dragon and started to run the other way. Jon turned towards Arya. "So, this is why you won't wake up?"

Arya nodded. "I think so."

Jon sighed. "Arya, you've been unconscious for weeks, you've got us all very scared, Gendry's a wreck."

"Then let's get this done so I can wake up." Arya snapped. She turned to Ser Barristan and raised the mask in her hand. "Who are they and how to we stop them?"

"They… they're funded by the slave Masters, we believe, Daenerys is trying to stop slavery… there is… resistance." Ser Barristan advised.

"Of course there is." Ned replied. "Look, I don't know how long you have us, this… whatever it is, is probably hurting Arya. Use us wisely, where to next?"

Ser Barristan looked at man, woman, direwolf, wolf, hound, and dragon, and seemed to take it all in stride. "We need to get to the large pyramid in the centre, they'll try and kill Daenerys, but these damned walls make it hard to see which way to go."

Arya nodded, if they could just see from above… "Arryn." She whispered, and suddenly the kestrel was there. The bird flew up into the sky, and as she saw from its eyes she picked the best path and started leading them towards the central pyramid.

"Okay, that's different." Ser Barristan muttered. "Interesting kids you have there, Ned."

"You have no idea." Ned muttered.

They entered another square and were suddenly ambushed again, but it seemed that the enemy could only see the Stark's and their animals when they concentrated. Arya thought of her Valyrian dagger and smiled as it appeared in her hand, this was even better than her Faceless man training, if she wasn't really here she could control when she was seen. There was something immensely satisfying about being able to sneak again despite her advanced pregnancy. Time and again she got behind an opponent and had the blade almost to their throat before concentrating. She took down a man just in front of Grey Worm and saw worry cross his face, she smiled at him. Grey Worm frowned and turned to face his next opponent. As they moved closer to the great pyramid Arya started to make a game of slitting as many throats as she could in front of Grey Worm, one time he tried to catch her wrist, but his hand passed right through her.

"How…?" He muttered.

"How can you defend against somebody that can do what I do?" She asked, her smile widening. "By not being my enemy." They got to the entrance of the great pyramid, but as Arya tried to enter it some invisible force seemed to stop her.

"I think this is where we stop." Bran said softly, he turned to Ser Barristan, a strange expression on his face. "Ser Barristan, to you remember the tourney at Blackhaven?"

Ser Barristan nodded. "It was many years ago, but I remember it as if it were yesterday."

Bran nodded. "Arya recently discovered that you met Maegor, son of Aerion, there, although you would have known him as Gormae Storm." Bran indicated Jon. "This is Isaeyan, son of Lyanna, son of Rhaegar, but you would know of him as Jon Snow, he is legitimate."

Ser Barristan turned to look at Jon, mouth agape. "I…"

Jon gave him a sad smile. "I'll come in person to speak with you about this soon enough, when I do, please encourage my aunt to hear me."

Ser Barristan nodded. "To do that…" He glanced towards the door.

Jon nodded. "Go."

Arya looked around at her family, her pack, there was so much to say. She wanted to know everything about the direwolf puppies, she wanted to know how Robb was, and baby Bryn, she wanted to hug her father… she wanted to appreciate just how strikingly tall Bran was, when not confined to his chair. Bran took a step towards her and tapped the middle of her forehead. "Fly." He whispered. And in an instant Arya was alone, clinging to the Cyvasse piece shaped like a pyramid again. The men on crucifixes were gone, the pieces on the board no longer moved, well, all except one. The piece that represented Drogon was still perched on top of the pyramid, watching her, it's alabaster base clutched loosely in one talon.

"Arya, please… wake up." Jon whispered.

~~/~~

Part 93:

Pain. The spasms ripped across Arya's middle, causing her to cry out. She didn't know where she was, all she knew was pain and darkness. Another spasm ripped a scream from her throat and caused her to try and curl into a ball, but her pregnant belly made that all but impossible. When had her belly gotten so big? Where was she? What was causing the pain? Another set of cramps brought tears to Arya's eyes, her mid was foggy, confused, and she was starting to panic.

 _A brush of fur, the scent of pack, Ghost… if she could just reach Ghost… no… it wasn't Ghost… it was Lady…_

 _Pain… darkness… confusion… the smell of blood._

"Arya, Arya sweetie, please wake up." The voice was her mothers, but it came from nowhere.

"This is just like you, isn't it Arya?" Sansa snapped in the darkness, she seemed angry and afraid. "Only you would sleep through your own damn labour, wake up, Arya, wake up!"

"Shaking her won't help, child." Arya didn't know this voice, it was male, and old, gentle. "This isn't a normal coma."

 _Pain…_

"Oh, Marwyn, shut up!" Another old male voice snapped, this one far less patient. "It's the stress of her pregnancy that's put her in this condition, the sooner the children are out of her, the better."

"Oh, and tell me, Ebrose, do your silver ring and rod tell you how she has sustained such a pregnancy, whilst being in a coma and feed only honey water and thin soup? She is healthier now than she was a month ago, clearly something else is sustaining her."

"Damn you, Marwyn! Does your Valyrian rod-" The second old voice, who had been identified as Ebrose, started to reply, but another voice cut him off.

"Stop! Stop it! All of you, either help her or get out! If you want to argue, do it outside!" Gendry, the voice was Gendry!

 _She needed to… she tried to call out to him… but she had no voice, no throat with which to form the sound, no mouth to open… darkness, only darkness._

"Arya, please, can you hear me?" He whispered his voice filled with fear and hope. "Arya, you're in labour… but this would go a lot better if you'd wake up. Seriously, if you wanted the babies born at Summerhall, why didn't you just say so? You know Renly wouldn't have refused you." He tried to make the last bit sound like a joke, but it only sounded desperate.

 _She needed to open her eyes… she needed to… pain… a whimper escaped her lips… wait! She had lips… if she had lips she had a body… you can't feel pain without a body. When the next wave of pain hit she tried to hold on to it, embrace it… the pain would bring her back… she just had to follow the pain, it would bring her back…_

A gentle touch, a feather-light kiss brushed across her forehead. "A girl, Arya, she's beautiful… if you want to sleep through this that's fine… wake up when you're ready." Gendry whispered.

 _Pain… Arya tried to form words, tried to open her eyes, but the darkness wouldn't let her go… "I see a darkness in you, and in that darkness, eyes…"_

The voices swirled around her… Ebrose and Marwyn argued, mother tried to reassure her, Sansa swung between begging her to wake up and telling her that she was being selfish, and Gendry, Gendry was doing everything he could to sound brave.

 _Pain… "Every pain is a lesson, and every lesson makes you stronger."_

A caress, a calloused hand brushing her hair aside. "A second girl." Gendry whispered. "Arya, I'm going to need some help with names, if you don't wake up they're Mary and Sue." Again he was attempting to joke, yet again his voice gave him away.

 _She tried to open her eyes, to see Gendry… she tried to move, but she was wrapped in something… leaves… she was wrapped in leaves… they looked like weirwood leaves in shape, but they were a deep dark blue._

 _Pain… fear… confusion… darkness…_

 _Fur… pack… warmth… Gendry…_

 _Eyes…_

 _A scream ripped from her lips…_

"Arya… I know you can hear me… I love you." Gendry whispered, there were other voices as well but Arya could only make sense of Gendry's.

 _She could smell fur and peat… Nymeria, she could feel the pack around her, yet knew that they were many miles away… but suddenly Nymeria was there, her teeth ripping through the leaves that bound Arya, leaving her naked skin bathed in inky-blue sap…_

"You're doing great, looks like Robar was right. Triplets, Arya, three beautiful sisters for Alyssa. It's almost done, Archmaester Ebrose says you just need to pass the afterbirth now. I'm right here, I'm with you… come back to me, Arya."

 _Arryn flew high above Aegon's Garden, circling the Elder tree, it looked beautiful from above with the three different roses blooming. Frost blue, like winter roses, Baratheon yellow, and purple, all contrasted against the Elder tree's lush green leaves… But Arryn wasn't where she needed to be, she needed to be back in her own body. She needed to open her eyes … pain… she needed to push through the pain and open her eyes… she needed…_

Another scream tore through her throat and somehow she managed to force her eyes open. She was suddenly aware of Gendry's hand in hers and she gripped it tightly. The room was unfamiliar, but Arya focused on the only thing that mattered as another contraction hit, Gendry. He looked tired, a shaggy, unkempt beard at his chin. His hair was longer now, but perhaps that was simply due to lack of attention? There were dark circles under his beautiful blue eyes, but he smiled for her all the same.

"Hey," He muttered. "My sleeping beauty awakes, you're doing well, you're in labour, but you're doing well. Triplets, Arya… gods, you are amazing."

"Quadruplets." Archmaester Ebrose muttered. "I can see another head crowning."

More pain forced Arya's eyes shut, and she was suddenly afraid that she wouldn't be able to open them again, but she did, and Gendry was still there, holding her left hand. Archmaester Ebrose tried to talk her through the end of her labour, but she only had eyes and ears for Gendry. There were other people in the room, the other old man with chains around his neck had to Marwyn, likely an Archmaester as well. Her mother was there, and Sansa… there were other women too, servants maybe? Or wet nurses? The fourth child was a boy.

People spoke to her, and helped her drink, applied cool sponges to her skin and talked of the need to change the bedding. Archmaester Ebrose told her that there would be a lot more heavy bleeding, and that she needed to not over exert herself least the bleeding became life threatening. The babies were brought over to her and she was allowed to hold them for a short time, but she was told that she was too weak to feed them, and they were passed off to wet-nurses. They were all so small! Smaller than Alyssa had been, and Alyssa had not been a large baby. Archmaester Ebrose told her that the babies were early, and small, but seemed healthy enough, surprisingly healthy, the next few days would be the biggest challenge.

~~/~~

The next few days were a blur, Arya drifted in and out of consciousness. After a couple of days she enlisted Sansa's help, and secretly feed each of the children, despite being told it would compromise her health. She needed to feed them, maybe she couldn't give them enough food by herself, but the need, the instinct, was undeniable. Sansa snuck them to her one at a time, over a period of a few hours, and helped her get them to latch, Arya studying each of the babies as she feed them.

The oldest girl had medium brown hair, but her eyes left no question that she was Baratheon, they were as deep and blue as the ocean. The second girl had dark brown hair, not quite black, her eyes were a greyish-blue. The third girl was smaller than the other two, and Sansa warned Arya not to get too attached, Ebrose did not expect the child to survive. Her face seemed to lack any baby fat, and she had yet to open her eyes, she was quiet and still, like a porcelain doll, her black eyelashes heavy on her cheeks. Her hair was Baratheon black, apart from two white patches on the left side of her head. But there was no way that Arya could not get attached, she finally got the girl to latch and feed, Arya didn't know how much milk she had to give, but she knew she had to try. She caressed the two white patches as the babe started to suckle, and slowly the girl opened her eyes. Those eyes sucked all of the air out of Arya's lungs, and out of Sansa's, they were a deep rich, violet-blue, there was no questioning the purple tinge to them. Arya smiled as the girl looked up at her. "She's going to live." Arya whispered.

Sansa nodded. "Gods, I hope so." She whispered. "If she does, we're going to talk about marrying her to Olenn, I want grandchildren with eyes like that."

Arya felt her expression harden. "No, I'm not even entertaining such conversations for at least ten years."

Sansa groaned. "Come on, Arya, be sensible."

"I am being sensible." Arya replied. "Look at your marriage, then look at mine, do you really want to force your son into a match he doesn't choose?"

"Ten years isn't going to change anything, children make stupid choices." Sansa snapped. "That's why their parents need to decide their husbands, gods, remember when I was thirteen and you were eleven? Remember how wonderful I though Joffrey was? I was a stupid, stupid girl! Olenn is the heir to Highgarden, marrying for love is one of the few luxuries his position does not afford." Sansa snapped.

Arya shrugged. "Maybe, but he could get lucky, why rob him of his choices before he's old enough to even have an opinion on the matter? I'm not saying I don't want your son to marry one of my daughters, I'm saying that if your son does marry one of my daughters I want them both to be happy about it. I have four daughter's futures to consider, and I'm not binding any of them to a betrothal any time soon."

"Fine." Sansa replied. "But we will be discussing this before their tenth name day. I'll go put this one down. Get some sleep, when you wake up again I'll get the boy, have you and Gendry come up with any names yet?"

Arya shook her head. "Gendry… we haven't done much talking… I did say no to Mary, and Sue."

Sansa nodded. "You scared him pretty good, you scared all of us."

Arya nodded, then frowned. "Jon hasn't visited me since I woke up… is that because…?"

Sansa nodded. "Officially Jon escorted Alyssa back to Dragonstone so that Renly would permit Gendry to come, but…" Sansa bit her lip. "Jon wrote to Robb and told him to send mother, Jon promised in the letter that he wouldn't be here when she arrived."

~~/~~

When Arya woke up again Gendry was sitting beside her bed. He'd bathed, and shaved, and looked much better for it, but he still looked like he needed sleep. Being clean shaven made him look younger, she reached up and stroked his cheek. "That's an improvement." She muttered.

"What? You don't like the beard?" He asked with a cheeky smile.

Arya shrugged. "Nothing wrong with a tidy beard, but…"

"But it was just a terrible mess." Gendry finished, Arya nodded. "Well, I was a terrible mess too." He admitted.

"I'm sorry." Arya whispered.

Gendry linked his fingers with hers. "For what?"

"Gendry…"

"Are you hungry?" He asked softly, Arya nodded. "Do you feel well enough to get out of bed?"

"I… I think so." Arya replied softly.

Gendry nodded and got a robe for her. He put soft slippers on her feet and helped her stand. Arya felt unsteady, but Gendry was there to catch her. "Once we've eaten we'll go to the nursery so you can feed the boy." Gendry said softly. "Then, if you feel up to it, we can talk about names."

Arya raised an eyebrow at him. "Sansa told you?"

Gendry smiled. "You two may be as different as earth and salt, but she does love you."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Earth and salt, never heard that one before." She muttered.

Gendry laughed, a real laugh, and shrugged. "Guess I picked that one up off of Tobho Mott, far less boring than ice and fire though, isn't it?"

Arya smiled, she stretched up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Yes… earth and salt… I like it."

~~/~~

Part 94:

The 'Nursery' was simply another room with two mismatched cribs, a small table, a chair, and two narrow cots piled into it. Summerhall had been abandoned for decades, robbed and looted, and used for shelter by many. It had seen three wars in one day during Robert's Rebellion, and had the scars to prove it. Arya didn't know what building they were in, but it had to be one of the ones further from the remains of the Great Hall to be untouched by wildfire. Old servant quarters maybe? But furniture had been brought in from other places. The boy and the smallest girl sheared one crib, and the other two girls were in the other, Gendry had dismissed the wet nurses when they arrived, Arya didn't know either of them, but she supposed that Saia was with Alyssa, gods, she wished Alyssa was here! Arya pushed the thought away, she understood Renly's reasoning's for insisting Alyssa return to Dragonstone before Gendry come south, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

She studied each of the four babies for a minute or so, it was the first time that she had seen them all together. They were all so tiny, she was sure that they were smaller than Alyssa had been. The difference in hair colour between the first two girls was more noticeable with them side by side, but maybe that was because their hair had been sponged down now? The first girl's hair was a dark brown, close to Arya's hair in colour. The second girl's hair was much like Uncle Benjen's, brown when the light went through it, but in some lights it looked almost black. Both the girls were sleeping soundly, so she couldn't compere their eyes. The girls were swaddled, so only their hair and faces were visible. Arya left them be and moved to the next crib, if the other two girls had been small the third one was tiny, she looked like a doll, wrapped in her swaddling cloth, the two white patches of hair looked almost like fingerprints and Arya suddenly remembered Garth placing a hand on her belly at Ashford Meadow… was it possible that they were Garth's finger prints? If so, then why? Was it because she was so small? Had Garth saved her life? Arya brushed her fingers over the patches of hair, then gently picked up the boy.

He was larger than the smallest girl, but still smaller in size than the other two, his right hand had partially escaped his swaddling cloth. He looked up at her with his brilliant blue eyes, but didn't cry, she smiled, stroking his black hair. "Well there's no questions where this ones looks came from." She muttered. "He's every inch a Baratheon." As she moved him she noticed a mark of paler skin just below his wrist, it almost looked like a thumb print… had Garth saved both of them?

"Yes." Gendry agreed. "There's more Stark in the girls."

Arya frowned at the seriousness of his expression. "Are you disappointed?" She asked. "That none of them have Alyssa's silver hair, I mean?"

Gendry shook his head. "No, there's no question that there's no Valyrian blood in you. I'm… glad that they don't all look the same." He raised an eyebrow at her. "We'd be in trouble if they were identical, right?"

"I think we're in trouble anyway." Arya replied. "If we keep up this rate we're going to outdo Walder Frey."

Gendry chuckled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "What? Average of four a year? In ten years we'd have forty… I… I don't think I can come up with that many names." His expression became more serious. "Or that your body can handle that."

Arya didn't know how to handle Gendry's concern so she ignored the last comment and focused on the name part. "We'll just have to start mixing names together, it's common enough, Daemon Blackfyre had an Aegon and a Haegon…"

"Mix them together how?" Gendry asked.

Arya shrugged again and settled herself into the chair, she felt somewhat awkward as she held the babe in one arm and opened her robe, but Sansa had shown her some tricks with the three girls, and the boy latched easily, soon she was feeding him. "Look at my family tree, we've got Lyanna's and Lyarra's, Lyanne's, Lysara's… We've got Edwyle's, Eddard's, Ellard's, Errold's… look at the Baratheon names, Robar, Rogar, Robert… Ormund, Boremund… we can come up with forty names, we just need to know what names we want to start with."

Gendry nodded. "Well, I don't want anything to do with Robert, or Stannis, I don't want to use Renly, but a Renea, or a Resara, or something for one of the girls might make him happy."

Arya frowned. "What about Resenya, as in a combination of Renly and Visenya?"

Gendry pulled a face. "Maybe… Ren, Renlea… Renella?"

"Oh, I like that… it's like a Baratheonisation of Rhaella!" Arya exclaimed. "It would be perfect for the second girl, the one with dark brown hair and greyish-blue eyes."

Gendry raised an eyebrow at that. "A Baratheonisation? Really?"

Arya laughed. "Yeah, why not?"

Gendry rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop himself from smirking. "Well then we're going to need a Starkisation too… Lysenya? Visanna? Rhaearra? … Visarya! What do you think? Visarya? For the youngest one, the one with the two white bits in her hair."

Arya nodded. "That could work, but I like Lysenya too, maybe Lysenya for the girl with the lighter hair?"

Gendry shook his head. "How about… Lysana… a cross between Lyanna, or Lyarra, and Cassana?"

The name sounded nice, but Arya was unsure how the name Cassana came into it. "Cassana?" She questioned.

Gendry smiled at her. "Cassana Baratheon… Renly's mother, my grandmother… that way the first girl is getting a name that's half Stark, half Baratheon."

"Then the next girl is getting a name that's half Baratheon, half Targaryen, and the third girl is getting a name that's half Stark, half Targaryen… I like it." Arya agreed.

"Lysana, Renella, Visarya." Gendry muttered with a smile.

" _Alyssa_ , Lysana, Renella, Visarya." Arya corrected, then she smirked. "All four of our daughter's names end in 'a'."

Gendry laughed at that. "Arya, Sansa, Lyanna, Lyarra, Sara, Sarra... I've been spending a lot of time looking at your family tree," He replied. "It's a very Stark thing to do." He sighed, his eyes moving to the boy. "Now the hard one… he's going to be the head of House Baratheon one day, maybe even a King… everybody from Dorne to the Wall is going to be looking for hidden meaning in his name."

"I can think of a good Stark name." Arya muttered, suddenly feeling mischievous.

Gendry shook his head. "I'm not sure a Stark names appropriate."

Arya raised an eyebrow at him. "Hear me out, have you ever heard of Barthogan 'Blacksword' Stark?"

Gendry's eyes widened. "You want to name our son Barthogan Baratheon? Don't you think that's a bit of a mouthful?"

"Well he'd be Barth for short… but shouldn't the name of a possible future king be a bit of a mouthful?"

"Barth Baratheon… Barthogan… Barthogon Baratheon…" Gendry muttered. "It takes a bit to get your mouth around… but I guess it's kind of rhythmic… Barthogon Baratheon… can't we just name him something simple… like Jon?"

"We could name him Jon." Arya agreed.

Gendry shook his head. "No, no we can't… Renly really wouldn't like that… Theon? Theon Baratheon?"

Arya pulled a face. "Theon Greyjoy would love that, I'm sure, but no. Robb can have a Theon if he wants, but no thank you. What about… Osric?"

"No." Gendry replied almost as soon as the name was out of Arya's mouth. "Not Osric, not Cregan, not Torrhen, not Brandon, not Robert… it needs to be something strong, but honourable, simple, but respected… something like…"

"Arthur!" Arya exclaimed. "After Ser Arthur Dayne, the last Sword of the Morning."

"Or Duncan, after Ser Duncan the Tall." Gendry replied, he frowned. "This is really hard… What about blending our names? Gary? Andy? Ardry? Gendrya? No, that sounds like a female name… Shit… Arya, I have no ideas."

Arya looked down at the boy in her arms, he had stopped feeding. She carefully closed her robe and just looked at him. They were overthinking it… _Don't think, look. See with your eyes, feel with your skin…_ The boy looked so peaceful and calm… Arya traced the mark on his arm and let her mind wander, she didn't try to hold onto any thought too tightly. Suddenly she knew the name. "Toby," She whispered. "A blend of Tobho and Gendry."

"Toby." Gendry repeated. "Toby Baratheon." He looked at Arya, his expression unreadable. "Renly will never allow…"

"He will if you tell him why." Arya replied calmly.

Gendry nodded, then his expression became serious. "Arya… I need to ask you something… I…"

"What?" Arya asked softly. "Gendry, talk to me."

Gendry looked down at his hands. "Were you really planning to go to Meereen? If you hadn't gotten sick, I mean?"

Arya bit her lip. "Aurane told you?"

Gendry nodded, he wouldn't meet her gaze. "Yes, he told me… he told me you were in denial about how the pregnancy was impacting you, that you wouldn't admit your limitations. He… wrote to me when you were at Horn Hill, sent a rider to deliver the message by hand, he told me he was going to do everything that he could to slow the trip down, in hopes that you would realise it was unwise by yourself, but that if you decided to go he would support you, and stay at your side."

"Gendry…" Arya said his name softly, but she didn't know what to say after that.

Slowly he lifted his gaze. "If… if what happen had happened in Essos… do you think you would have lived, Arya? Do you think the children would have lived?"

"I… didn't think about it." Arya muttered.

Gendry shook his head. "No… you didn't _want_ to think about it… I know… I know you never dreamt of marriage and children… I know the limitations of motherhood scare you… you are capable of so much… you are so much more than just your husband or your children… and I don't ever want you to feel trapped…" He sighed. "But pregnancies are dangerous, and I don't want to lose you. If you get pregnant again… could you not travel any further than King's Landing beyond five months pregnant?"

Gendry held his nervousness in his shoulders, he seemed to be bracing himself for an angry reply, but she wasn't angry, if anything she felt guilty at how selfish she had been. "That's a fair request." She answered softly, he seemed to relax. Arya sometimes forgot how unsure of himself Gendry could be, so much of his life had been spent with people telling him he was unworthy, and her lack of consideration certainly hadn't helped his confidence. She pushed herself to her feet and walked over to him, Toby in her arms. "I wasn't running away from you." She said softly. "I… I think being pregnant was what gave me a sense of urgency to try and protect our future, from every threat. Daenerys, and her dragons, are a threat… no matter how you look at it. The sooner she realises that she doesn't have any real claim to the Iron Throne, the better… if she could let it go, if she could focus on trying to end slavery in Essos…"

Gendry touched her cheek, then kissed her forehead. "You know, everybody thinks you're trying to save the world, but you're not, are you? You're just trying to save your family, saving the world is a consequence." He bit his lip. "I get it, I do… but you can't do everything, you need to trust some things to other people."

Arya gave him a sad look. "Other people can't raise winter winds, if Daenerys tries to burn them they won't have any way to defend themselves."

Gendry stroked some of her hair behind her ear. "Then they're just going to have to try and prevent that from happening without magic." He said softly.

Arya's brow furrowed. "Who?" She asked.

"Jon, Aurane, Galan, and Derren." Gendry replied. "Jon had some strange idea that your mind was trapped in Essos, and that was why you wouldn't wake up, so he decided to go looking for you… and Galan needed to return Rolly's sword. They headed for Essos as soon as Alyssa was safely home."

~~/~~

Part 95:

Arya stood at the edge of what had once been the Great Hall, the earth and stone still blackened from the wildfire explosions five and forty years earlier. It was still clear to see how the fire had spread, moving through to the royal banquet halls, and then the royal apartments. Only minor buildings had been left untouched, the kitchens, servant's quarters, and stables, for example, had only been damaged by vandalism and decades of neglect. The fire had even spread to, and through, the Keep's Godswood, but in time new trees had grown to replace the old ones. Forty-five year old pines, ashes, and oaks told a story of birth amongst destruction, much akin to Rhaegar's story. Arya had spent little time in the new wood, she still tired easily and she spent much of her time with the children.

Ebrose seemed convinced that Visarya wouldn't live long as the wet nurses could barely get her to suckle, yet Arya could get her to feed with relative ease. Arya had taken to feeding the girl as much as she could, yet she felt guilty that it meant she suckled the other children less, it would be so easy to let Visarya become her favourite… but Arya didn't want to be that type of mother. Visarya's feedings were demanding, yet Arya always insisted on feed at least one of the other children once a day. Her mother thought she was over doing it, and even Sansa showed concern… Gendry's worry was expressed in subtle ways, plates piled with eggs at breakfast. Fruit and other snacks always available, pots of sweet fruit tea… It was lovely, and constant, and frustrating… Arya wasn't an invalid. Walking the grounds, with guards at a respectful distance, was Arya's only freedom.

Dragonsteel landed in the ruins of the Greet Hall, a dead and charred full grown cow in his claws, and started to feed. He was large enough for Gendry to ride now, yet Gendry seemed reluctant to try. Arya watched him feed, then start to clean himself, one eye constantly watching her. She smiled and sat, if she moved on Dragonsteel would follow her, she knew that, so she waited until he had finished cleaning himself. Once he was done he came up to her, in search of a pat. She stroked his face and lent against his now massive head. "Good boy, Dragonsteel." She muttered. A voice cleared behind her, but she didn't turn.

"Thought I might find you here." Gendry muttered. "Hmm, maybe you should ride him?"

Arya sighed, pulling herself away from the dragon and standing up. "Gendry, no, I'm not taking that away from you."

Gendry gave her a strange look. "Who says it's mine? Pylos and I have been reading through that book by Septon Barth, based on how Dragonsteel hatched it seems he may have imprinted on both of us, either of us could become his rider…"

"But not both." Arya finished. "The dragon and rider bond is singular, there is no recorded instances of any dragon ever being sheared between two riders." She arched an eyebrow at him. "That's why you haven't ridden him yet?"

Gendry bit his lip and nodded slightly. "Yeah." He admitted.

Arya sighed, then reached out her hand to him. "Gendry, come here." Gendry approached slowly, Arya took his hand and gently pressed it against the scales of Dragonsteel's neck. "Think about how it feels when you work with him to make the new metal, the Dragonsteel." She said softly. "About how the two of you work together as a team." Gendry nodded and closed his eyes, leaning into Dragonsteel's neck. "Dragonsteel is your dragon, he may love me, but he is your dragon." Arya said softly, she guided Gendry slowly down his body. "Feel his scales, his heat… you hatched him, Gendry, _you_ are his human… now get on him."

Gendry paused and opened his eyes. "I, ah… he doesn't have a saddle yet."

Arya chuckled. "Then I guess you're going to have to ride him bareback." She gave Gendry a gentle push. "Up." She instructed.

She took a few steps back and watched as Gendry stroked Dragonsteel, looking up at him with uncertainty. She was momentarily worried, uncertainty was dangerous when claiming a dragon, but Gendry had already claimed Dragonsteel years ago, that was how he'd hatched him, Gendry was just struggling to accept it. Arya moved back further as Dragonsteel craned his long neck, bringing his head around to Gendry. Dragonsteel gave Gendry a nudge, as if trying to get Gendry to mount him, and Gendry's expression changed from uncertainty to determination. Arya smiled as Gendry climbed onto Dragonsteel's back and found hand holds, Dragonsteel turned quickly, took a couple of steps, then lurched into the air with Gendry on his back. Arya laughed, there was something beautiful about watching dragon and rider move together for the first time. It was clear that Dragonsteel was in control at first, they circled the Keep a couple of times, Arya thought she could almost feel the moment when the control changed, suddenly they were flying away from the Keep, heading North along the King's road. Arya smiled and shook her head, let them explore for a while… Dragonsteel would keep Gendry safe. She made her way back towards the nursery, Visarya would need another feed soon.

~~/~~

Day moved to evening, and Gendry and Dragonsteel still hadn't returned, but Arya wasn't getting too worried. But when morning came, and Gendry still hadn't returned Arya started to get concerned. Morning moved into afternoon, and Gendry was still gone, but what could Arya really do? She wandered the Godswood, taking in the wildflowers and young trees, well, young by Winterfell standards, trying to distract herself. She heard the leaves rustle, and the wind whisper, the sound of water rushing over pebbles in a distant creek… it was almost as if the forest around her was having a conversation, but she didn't know the words, she imagined that if she kept listening she might eventually understand it.

As she wandered white bark caught her attention… it couldn't be! She hurried forward and soon red leaves came into sight, a weirwood! It was the youngest weirwood that she had ever seen, weirwoods were slow growing things, but it was there all the same. The tree was still a sapling, it couldn't have been more than a few years old. "How?" she muttered, pressing a hand reverently against the bark.

"It is a strange thing, for a weirwood to suddenly grow here." A voice replied. Arya turned slowly, her guards were far behind her, giving her space, nobody should be here. As she turned she saw an old stooped woman, no more than three foot tall. Her skin was impossibly pale, almost translucent, her hair was white, and her eyes were red. She was clearly an albino, although her height would have had her named a dwarf, she was in far better proportion than Tyrion. She had a large gnarled cane of black wood. "Have you come to sing a song for me?" The old women asked. "Rhaegar used to always sing to me."

Arya frowned, was this some forgotten Targaryen bastard? Or some deformed Targaryen that had been hidden away and listed as dead? "What did Rhaegar sing?" Arya asked.

The old woman's face twisted into a mix of grief and hopefulness. "Jenny's song." She replied in a withered old voice.

Arya shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't think I know it… perhaps you could sing it for me?"

"No." the old woman muttered. "That's not how it works… you sing, and I see, then I tell you what I see." She muttered, she thumped her cane on the ground.

"I see sometimes too." Arya replied. "Have you ever tried it the other way around?"

The old woman seemed to tremble. "No," She whispered. "No, no, no… you'll only see pain from me. You sing, child." She thudded her cane into the earth. "You sing!"

"I don't know any songs." Arya muttered. The old woman thudded her cane into the ground again, she looked very distressed. "I… could try and make one up." Arya replied.

"Yes, yes! Sing." The old woman insisted.

Arya sighed, songs were Sansa's thing, but the old woman seemed very insistent, and very distressed, what harm could a song do? She racked her brain for something to sing, her eyes returning to the weirwood. "White as bone, and red as blood, the weirwoods ruled this land. From the arm of Dorne, to beyond the Wall, one great forest did stand. The Children knew, the Giants too, but the First Men didn't understand. So they cut it down, they cut it down, and Dorne was turned to sand…"

As she continued to sing the song seemed to take on a life of its own and the old woman stood straighter. Arya kept her hand on the weirwood, she realised that she was caught in some sort of spell, but there was no way out of it now, only through. She sang of the wars of the First Men against the Giants, and the Children of the Forest, of the breaking of the arm and the flooding of the neck… as she sang it she saw it… but she saw it from the perspective of the trees… she saw the arguments between the different groups of the Children of the Forest… she saw the making of the Night King, watched as Leaf plunged the dragon glass into him… that tree… that was the tree that Bran was in!

The old woman was stepping back from her in fear, but the old witch was caught in the spell too, of course she was, it was the old woman's spell… there was no way out, only through… and the song wasn't done yet… finally Arya realised that she was singing her own story… and finally they came to where they were, the blood wolf and the woods witch, in the reborn forest, fighting for control of a weirwood… Arya finally understood that the witch had meant to trap her in the weirwood, to give the weirwood her face.

"And so the wolf child, the blood child, stood before the woods witch, Jenny's friend…" She sung. "And as the battle drew towards an end she gave the witch a choice, do you want to remember forever or forget?"

The woods witch glared at her with red eyes. "You are cruel to come here," She snarled. "I have already gorged myself on grief, I need none of yours!"

Arya sang the last line again. "Do you want to remember forever, or forget?"

"I see you, I know you, wolf child… blood child, my dreams brought me here."

"Dream forever, or dream no more?" Arya replied. "Choose." She snatched the old woman's black cane and focused on it, causing it to ice over. "You tried to trick me, to force me into the weirwood so that you could use me, why shouldn't I do the same to you?" She focused on the cane and it snapped in half, the woods witch screaming, she threw the pieces to the ground. "Go, begone from here, if I ever see you again I will make a tree of you… begone!"

The old woman fled from Arya in terror and Arya lent back against the tree, feeling suddenly exhausted. Suddenly a small figure leaped out of a nearby tree and landed in front of her, it was no larger than a child, but clearly it was not a child, it was clearly one of the Children of the forest. It had nut-brown skin, dappled with lighter spots like a deer, it's ears were surprisingly large for its head, and it was dressed in what looked like leaves and bark, it was impossible to tell it's gender. It reached out a three fingered hand and picked up one of the discarded pieces of cane, black clawed fingers wrapping around it. "Compassion," It muttered. "That's interesting, she would have put you in that tree, you know."

Arya nodded. "Yes." She agreed. "And you would have let her."

The Child of the Forest nodded. "Yes, I am… well, you could not say my name… call me 'Song'."

Arya nodded. "Song, I am Arya."

Song nodded. "Yes, we've been watching you."

Arya nodded. "The… Three Eyed Raven has my brother… should I be concerned?"

Song nodded. "Very concerned… the one that leads the Children there calls herself Leaf, she's the one that-"

"I know." Arya cut Song off. "When the Last Hero made a deal with the Children of the Forest it wasn't with all of them, was it?"

"No." Song agreed. "Leaf is using the Three Eyed Raven, she and her people have gone mad, they will bring eternal winter down on us all to kill your kind, they will kill us all."

Arya nodded, it was what she had suspected. "When Winter comes, if the Wall falls, we will make our stand at Winterfell." She said calmly. "I hope we will not stand alone."

"That is not for me to decide." Song replied. "There are very few of us left, and the deep woods grow smaller and smaller."

Arya nodded. "Would you speak with those whose decision it is on my behalf?"

"Yes." Song replied. "One question, would you be willing to sacrifice your life if it was the only way to win?"

"If it was the only way… yes." Arya replied.

Song nodded. "That was Brandon's answer too, you look like him."

Arya felt her mouth drop open in shock. "Bran the builder? The child of Bran the Bloody and Rose of Red Lake?" She asked.

Song nodded. "Yes… he was… I was very fond of him."

Arya didn't know how to respond to that, Song picked up the other half of the cane and walked away, disappearing into the trees, leaving Arya with more questions than answers. Moments later Arya heard a dragon screech above the trees, Dragonsteel, it had to be Dragonsteel! She started to run. By the time she reached the canopy of trees the dragon was out of sight, she ran towards the remains of the Great Hall. Dragonsteel was there, a saddle on his back, and Gendry was there as well. Gendry smirked as he saw her, and Arya realised that Alyssa was in his arms.

Gendry put Alyssa down and she ran towards Arya. "Mama! Mama!" She yelled excitedly. "I flew!"

Arya laughed and scooped the toddler up into her arms, peppering her with kisses. "Yes Lissy, you flew." She approached Gendry. "No saddle, huh?"

"Yes… well.. ah…" Gendry scratched at his eyebrow.

"Tobho?" Arya asked.

Gendry nodded. "Yeah, Tobho made it… he was just waiting for me to be ready."

Arya nodded, holding Alyssa close. "Isn't Renly going to be mad… that you brought Alyssa here? I mean, I've missed her terribly, but still…"

Gendry nodded. "Yeah, he was… I stopped at King's Landing to change Alyssa's nappy and grab some lunch, we had a chat about it… but now that I can fly a dragon he doesn't really have a good argument, Brienne was angrier, she and Saia will be here in a few days." He put an arm around Arya's shoulders and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "What about you? Anything interesting happen while I was away?"

Arya shrugged. "Oh, nothing more interesting than normal." She replied, a slight smile playing across her lips.

~~/~~

That night she tried to call Bran to the Winterfell Heart Tree, but he would not come, she spoke with Robb about her conversation with Song (but left out the encounter with the woods witch, and the question that Song had asked her) and Robb agreed to send a party north of the Wall to search for Bran. She then turned her thoughts to Jon, Jon looked tired when he came, and Ghost was limping, but Jon smiled at her and hugged her close. She told him all about the babies, and Gendry riding Dragonsteel, but left out her encounter with the woods witch. He told her that Rolly's sword had been successfully returned, but when she asked how things had gone with Daenerys his lips thinned and his expression became unreadable.

"We'll talk about it when we get back." He said quietly.

Arya frowned at that. "Not good then?"

Jon shook his head. "Not what I'd hoped for." He said softly. "Daenerys and Drogon were already gone by the time I arrived, but we did manage to stop an angry mob from killing Rhaegal and Viserion, I'll be home when I can."

Arya nodded. "Don't take too long," She muttered. "Ygritte will kill you if you're not back before the baby's born."

Jon's brow furrowed at that. "What baby?"

Arya just smiled at him. "Ygritte was about four months pregnant when we were at Blackhaven, that means she's almost seven months pregnant now."

"Shit." Jon muttered.

Robb laughed. "Seems like we're always competing, dear brother, Wynafryd is about seven months pregnant too."

Arya's jaw dropped at that and she turned to look at Robb in shock as she did the math. "What? Did the two of you go at it like bunnies from the moment you got home?!" She exclaimed.

"Arya!" Jon chided, then he walked over to Robb and pulled him into a hug. "I'm happy for you, brother."

Robb hugged Jon just as tightly. "You really need to come back home for a while, bring Ygritte and the kids too, you'd adore Bryn, and I still haven't met Eldrick yet."

"We'll see." Jon replied as he pulled back from the hug. "I better go, it seems I need to have a long conversation with Ser Barristan about how long we can spend looking for Daenerys."

Arya frowned. "What does Ser Barristan have to do with it?"

"He's Rhaegal's rider." Jon replied.

Arya bit her lip at that. "What about Viserion?"

"Threw Aurane off of his back, and broke Galan's right arm when Galan unchained him, Aurane's alright, his biggest injury was to his pride. But Viserion will follow Rhaegal, so if I can't convince Ser Barristan to come back we'll have to leave him in Essos with the two dragons."

"That's… not ideal." Robb muttered, he sighed. "But I'm sure you'll do whatever is right…" his voice trailed off and he frowned, looking past Jon.

Arya followed his gaze, there was a Child of the Forest there, although Arya couldn't be sure if it was the one that she'd spoken to earlier in the day or not? "Song?" She questioned.

"Pool." The Child of the Forrest replied. "Song has sung with the elders, and they are in agreement, when Winter comes the Children of the Forest that live south of the Wall will send their best singers to Winterfell, we will work with the Children of Men one last time, but we are few. Some of us are already here…" Pool seemed to study Robb, then study Jon, before returning his (her?) attention to Arya. "Neither of these are the brother that is with the Three Eyed Raven, are they?"

"No." Arya agreed.

"That brother must be retrieved before it is too late." Pool replied.

"Agreed." Robb said. "I plan to send men North first thing tomorrow to retrieve him."

"They will fail, unless the crowned King of Winter goes with them." Pool replied. "Come sunrise, look for me here, I will come with you, and do my best to counter my twisted brothers and sisters songs."

Robb nodded. "I will speak with you in the morning then." He gave Jon one last hug. "Be safe." He instructed. Robb then walked over and hugged Arya. "No more adventures for a while, please?"

"I'll do my best." Arya replied, her gaze moved to Pool. "But, even when I'm not looking, things find me."

She turned her attention to Pool as Robb released her. "Tell Song I said thank you." Pool nodded, bowed, and walked into the Godswood.

"That was…" Jon muttered.

"A Child of the Forest." Arya completed. "Woh dak nag gram, as Mag would say, the second one I've met today."

Jon nodded, he hugged Arya tightly. "You always did make interesting friends." He muttered. "I better go, I'll see you in person as soon as I can." He put a hand on Ghost and walked into the forest.

Robb sighed. "I better go too, little sister, please try and stay safe." A moment later he, and Grey Wind, were gone.

Arya sighed, put a hand on Nymeria, and walked into the forest herself, it was nearly dawn when she woke up in her own bed, Alyssa curled into her chest, she carefully moved Alyssa and made her way to the Nursery, Visarya would need another feed.

~~/~~


	20. Chapter 96

Part 96:

Renly came down about a week after Gendry had retrieved Alyssa from Dragonstone, Brienne and Saia were in the large host that travelled south with him, he'd also brought much of the Small Council and half of the court. It made conditions cramped and Renly and Gendry spent much of their time investigating what of the Keep could be restored to a useful state quickly. A tent city of guards, servants, lesser nobles and traders quickly sprang up on Summerhill's impressive (but neglected) front lawn. Grass and wildflowers were quickly trampled into muddy paths and wild shrubs were ripped out, or incorporated into tents. It soon became a mark of esteem for a lesser noble to have a shrub in the middle of their tent, the one place that Arya loudly insisted they could not invade was the godswood, she responded with anger when she caught a few soldiers trying to fell the trees at the edge of it and had them, and their Lord, dragged before Renly. When the Lord complained that they needed wood she responded that they could fell trees in there once they had burnt the wood of every Sept within a hundred leagues, and of their own halls, and not before. Renly supported her, and made the felling of trees in the New Wood (as the Summerhall Godswood was starting to be called) an offence punishable by life at the Wall.

Gendry brought in the builders and masons that had helped with the Dragonpit, along with some of the advisors for his mines, and they quickly got the blocked off, but still standing, portion of the royal apartments habitable. Thankfully that included the old Royal Nursery and Arya and the children were moved as soon as the area could be secured. The nursery was somewhat similar to Winterfell's Winter Nursery in principle, although far smaller, there was a main room and then a number of side rooms. As this part of the Castle had been boarded up almost immediately after the fire, and then simply left, it was still full of furniture, wall hangings, blankets, and even clothing. There were intricate fire guards, some of wrought iron or beaten brass, others of carefully constructed leadlight, the likes of which Arya had only ever seen in Septs… there were fire screens of carefully lacquered and painted wood… and every panel told a story.

Arya asked the Archmaester Marwyn's permission to set a couple of Acolytes to the task of cataloguing them and trying to work out what each frame was depicting. Marwyn was more than eager to partake in the task himself, but also offered her the assistance of two Acolytes, Pate and Alleras, the Hermit Crab, and the Sphinx he called them, although why he did so was a riddle to Arya at first. Pate reminded Arya of Hot Pie in appearance, he was overly plump, pasty pale, and generally 'soft', but his eyes gave him away as something more. Pate didn't seem to miss anything, he was always paying attention, even when it seemed as if he wasn't, and sometimes he would move just a bit too quickly, or show himself to be just that touch too agile… Arya quickly found herself testing just how aware and agile Pate was. Clearly he was not what he pretended to be, the face he showed to the world was a lie… maybe that was why Marwyn referred to him as a Hermit Crab?

The riddle of the Sphinx was easier to solve, Alleras was clearly a girl. She was slender and it seemed obvious to Arya that the snug iron studded brigandine she wore was to keep her small bust strapped down and her identity hidden. She always had a slight smile, like she was on the inside of some great joke, and spoke much like Prince Oberyn; with a lazy sounding Dornish drawl that belied how attentive she was being. Her skin was darker than the Dornish Prince's, the colour of a light brown ale, but her hair and eyes were a mirror to his; curly black hair, with a widow's peak, and eyes so dark as to be called black. Alleras claimed that her mother was a Summer Islander, and the fact that she carried a goldenheart long bow suggested that claim was true. Her breeches were a soft, supple doeskin, a suggestion that she came from money. Arya didn't know _for sure_ that she was one of Oberyn's Sand Snakes, but it wouldn't have been too surprising if she turned out to be one of his daughters.

While investigating what remained of the Royal Quarters kept Arya busy Gendry was kept busy with other matters. Renly had declared that court would remain at Summerhall until Arya and the babies were fit to travel, this caused long days for Gendry as he was strongly involved in the restoration of Summerhall as well. It would often be late when he crawled into bed to join her, she'd try not to wake him during the night when she got up to feed Visarya, but come morning he'd either be with Renly, or in the nursery steering at the babies when Arya awoke. Although he slept beside her every night when he was there he seemed distant, and they hadn't been intimate since she had left Dragonstone, it was beyond clear that he wasn't sleeping much and it was starting to worry her. Gendry spent week about at Summerhall and Dragonstone, taking advantage of the fact that he could travel distances that would take days, or even weeks in a few short hours.

Often Shireen would travel with him, the first time she brought Lucerys, and the next she brought Aleena, the third time Cade was her companion… the shy girl had been replaced by a confidant young lady, whom spent as much time in the training yard as with a book in her hand, in fact, it was Shireen that got Arya back into the training yard. Shireen always brought news of Dragonstone, stories about little Arya and Albin, reports on the mines, updates on Ygritte. Jon was never mentioned, which meant Jon had not yet returned. Ygritte gave birth to a second boy, Bennard Targaryen, yet still Jon, Galen, and Aurane remained absent from Shireen's stories.

Arya returned to her role in the Small Council, the silence of the Vale was causing growing concern, and they had even stopped paying their taxes. Renly did not know how to approach the matter and Arya was conflicted, she knew what Lysa had done, knew that in the other life she would have happily thrown Sansa through the Moon Door… but she was still her Aunt… a stranger that would happily do her harm, but still her mother's baby sister. As the council talked about what to do she racked her brain for another option.

"We could always send Gendry and his dragon to talk to her." Renly muttered in exasperation.

Arya shook her head. "No, as much as I would love to see Gendry do a Visenya, it won't work… you know how Lysa is better than most of us, she's not exactly… _well_ , is she?"

"No." Renly answered softly. "That's why I've left it so long, but I fear we've left it _too long_ now." He sighed. "I know she's your aunt…"

"We need to go around her." Arya said firmly. "Yohn Royce… the only question is how-"

"Mya!" Gendry suddenly replied, he sat straighter in his chair. "Arya, do you remember that list you gave me? Do you remember the first name? Mya Stone, Robert's first child…" He pulled the scrap of parchment out of a pocket and handed it to Renly. "This is everything Arya's father told her about me and my siblings, I've been carrying it around for nearly three years now, although I'm sure I've memorised every word. Mya is the only one I couldn't work out how to reach out to, she's under the protection of House Royce, I think it's about time she was acknowledged and summoned to court."

Renly took the piece of parchment from Gendry and read it, the parchment was worn, and in some cases ripping at the creases so it had to be handled with care. "Mya… of course, how could I have forgotten about her?" Renly muttered. "Robert wanted to bring her to court, you know, after Joffrey was born. Cersei made it very clear that the girl wouldn't live long if he did, that broke him I think, after that he just kind of gave up and left it to Jon Arryn to look out for her." He smiled. "It's almost Alyssa's second name day, I'll write to Lord Royce personally about the importance of Mya being here, though gods only know what we'll say to him once he arrives."

"I'll tell him that Littlefinger acquired the Tears of Lys," Arya said quietly. "But that I can't prove who put the drops in his wine." She took a deep breath, part of her wanted to stop there, to bite her tongue, her mother would have… but her father wouldn't have. Could she really implicate Lysa in the murder of Jon Arryn? **_Family. Duty. Honour._** They were the Tully words, family came first, but what of justice? Winter was coming, and so was Daenerys, from everything that the other self knew Lysa was not a good leader, was she even preparing for winter? It didn't even matter if the Night King got a dragon or not, the Vale wouldn't stand. If they didn't fall to him they'd fall to Daenerys, they were a weakness, they might even be where Daenerys started her attack since Dragonstone was defended by dragons. If Daenerys got her hands on the fortified Vale and flooded it with her Dothraki Screamers and armies of Unsullied… It would be the Andal wars all over again, but with dragons.

"Arya, Arya, are you listening?" Renly said softly touching her arm, she looked at him sadly. "Arya, do you know who poisoned Jon Arryn?" Arya closed her eyes and nodded slowly, she opened them again, every eye in the room watching her. **_High as honour._** They were the Arryn words. "Arya, talk to me." Renly said softly.

Arya pulled her arm back and abruptly pushed herself to her feet. "I… If you'll all excuse me, I need to go check on Visarya." She started towards the door before anybody could say anything, she headed straight to the nursery as quickly as she could.

Some time later Gendry arrived and sat quietly in the chair beside her, neither of them spoke for a long while. Eventually Gendry cleared his throat. "A raven arrived today," He said slowly. "Wynafryd had another girl, her name is Gwenffyrd… Robb still hasn't returned from beyond the Wall." He took a deep breath. "I think it would be best for your mother to go to Winterfell, _before_ Alyssa's name day."

Arya nodded slowly. "I'll talk to her about it later." She whispered.

"Arya… I…" Gendry sighed. "Whatever happens you won't be part of it, but you need to step away from the Small Council for a while. Renly thinks he has a plan to work around your Aunt without exposing her role in Jon Arryn's death… I… you did the right thing."

"It doesn't feel like the right thing." Arya muttered.

Gendry took her hand. "I know," He whispered. "We're never going to talk about this again, all right? Whatever was said was said, whatever conclusions were drawn were drawn… I have _never_ heard you speak one word that would harm your family, not a single _word_."

"Sometimes you don't need words." Arya muttered.

~~/~~


	21. Chapter 97

Part 97:

Catelyn frowned and put down her knitting needles, a pair of nearly finished booties hanging from them. "Arya," She said softly. "I just don't think it's a good idea, Wynafryd has her own mother, and you _need_ me here. Gendry is reckless, the way he flies around on that dragon, he's going to get himself killed, and Shireen isn't exactly a good influence either. Your wet nurses are totally incompetent, if they weren't they'd have managed to get Visarya to feed, you shouldn't be spending all of your energy on her, it's your son that needs your milk. And Saia is as useless as Old Nan, you should leave her to care for _that girl_ , but keep her away from _your_ children."

Arya froze. "By ' _that girl'_ do you mean Alyssa?" She challenged.

Catelyn sighed. "Arya, yes, _that child_ is not your daughter, and you need to stop treating her as if she is, she's a threat to-"

"I've heard enough." Arya snapped. " _Alyssa_ is my daughter, she may not be my blood, but she _is_ my daughter. I may not have been able to protect Jon from you, but I will protect her. I will raise my other children to love and accept her, just as I love and accept Jon."

"Arya…" Her mother sighed.

Arya shook her head. "You are not welcome on Dragonstone." She said coldly. "And you will find access to your Baratheon grandchildren very limited if you cannot accept their sister as your granddaughter. I will _not_ permit Alyssa to suffer at your coldness and cruel words the way Jon did. You are not welcome at Alyssa's Name Day, go to Winterfell, or back to Harrenhal, go to Riverrun if you wish… I don't care, just don't be here." Before Catelyn could say another word Arya turned on her heals in search of Sansa.

~~/~~

"Here," Sansa muttered, pushing the plate towards Arya, one lonesome lemon cake remaining on it. "You have it."

"Sansa, no, you love them so much more than I do, you have it." Arya replied pushing the plate back towards her sister.

Sansa placed her hand on Arya's. "I've had more than enough," She said softly. "Besides, you need the energy more than I do, you're breastfeeding, I'm not, indulge for once."

Arya looked down at the sticky yellow lump, she had no idea where they'd found the cook that made them but they were the best lemon cakes Arya had ever tasted, a royal monstrosity if she'd ever seen one. Oh the cakes were small enough, but the gem trays they'd been baked in were exquisitely detailed, each sweet little cake had a burst of lemon curd in the middle, and they were drowned in a sticky lemon syrup with bits of candied lemon rind on top. These ones also had poppy seeds added and she had to admit she did enjoy the contrast and the crunch of the seeds. She picked it up and bit into it slowly, careful not to wear the runny middle. "How can she be so cruel?" Arya asked around her mouthful. "How can anybody _hate_ a child like that?"

"Are we talking about Jon or Alyssa?" Sansa questioned softly, she cleaned her fingers in a water bowl then wiped them with a napkin, every action as delicate and precise as it always was, Arya could never be that ladylike.

Arya swallowed her mouthful, feeling as though she's been chided for her lack of manners even though Sansa had said nothing, and gave Sansa a helpless look. "Either… both… neither of them deserve to be treated like that… to be talked about like _that._ Hells… lets add Maegor to the conversation… Gormae Snow deserved far better!" She shoved the last of the lemon cake into her mouth and swallowed it quickly. "I just don't get it!"

"No, I suppose you don't." Sansa agreed. "It's something father could never get his head around either, I guess. He'd never be that cruel, which is why it was easy for mother to hide her cruelness to Jon from him, why it was easy from me to hide my cruelness to you from him. The truth is our mother is a very jealous woman, she's always been jealously protective of the children of her own womb, and now she's jealously protective of the grandchildren of her own womb… Alyssa and Jon are not those children." Sansa sighed and poured herself some more tea, adding a good spoonful of honey, she squeezed a large wedge of lemon into it then started to slowly stir the honey through. "It's even worse than that though, not only did she see Jon as a threat to Robb, she taught me to see you as a threat, as the first born I had to be the prettiest, the best, it was required that I get a good marriage so that you could get one almost as good."

"That's ridiculous!" Arya exclaimed licking her fingers.

Sansa quietly nudged the finger bowl in Arya's direction. "I was taught that you, and any future sisters, would be judged not only on your own merit, but on mine. I had to be the perfect lady… so every time that you did something exceptionally unladylike and got a smirk from father instead of a reprimand… it hurt, that was why I was so mean to you."

"Sansa… I'm sorry." Arya muttered.

"For what?" Sansa frowned. "For being honest? For being true to yourself? For those things getting you a better marriage than mine? Do you realise how often mother reminds me that Gendry was born a bastard? It's like she _needs_ me, as the first daughter, to have the best. She's convinced herself that Jon, or his son, will take Dragonstone away from you and Alyssa will get Storm's End."

"That's just stupid." Arya muttered.

"Yes." Sansa agreed. "Jon's far more likely to try and make you Queen, but mother can't see that. She… it's just how she thinks… she had me thinking that way for a while too, too long. Learning the truth of Loras, not just that he preferred men, but what he did to Gendry… that he was just another monster dressed up as a hero… my view of the world was built on lies, Arya, and when those lies started to crumble I tried to blame you… I even convinced myself that you and Robb had known the truth about Jon for years."

"We hadn't." Arya replied. "A little longer than you, but…"

"But you both treated Jon better, so of course he trusted you, don't worry, Jon put me straight. That yelling match on Driftmark… it was perhaps the most honest conversation of my entire life." She gave Arya a gentle smile. "And Jon and I are closer for it. Mother hasn't had a moment like that, she's still clinging to the lies of how she thinks the world should work."

Arya pulled a face. "So what? I need to be kinder to her because she's deluded?" She shook her head and sipped her tea. "I need to protect my daughter."

"And right now you _sound like mother_." Sansa replied. "In her mind that is exactly what she is trying to do, _protect her daughter_. You can't use your children as a weapon, Arya, it will only make them resent you when they're older. You need to try and make peace with her."

"Alyssa…" Arya muttered.

"Alyssa will be loved and supported by dozens of people, she will be taught to be strong and independent, she will be told over and over again that you loved her from the first moment she was placed into your arms, and that you have defended her as fiercely as a direwolf defending their pup. She will come to understand that the mother that birthed her was not well, and that you are the mother that _chose_ her. But you can't _make_ mother love her. Alyssa needs you, she needs her mother, but you need your mother as well. You don't need to agree with her, but you need to find some ground to make peace."

 _Peace?_ How could that ever happen now? Whatever happened with Lysa, mother would blame her… there had to be a way… Arya took a deep breath, finished her tea and stood up, Sansa stood as well. "I'll try." She muttered.

Sansa pulled her into a hug. "Good, that's all you can do, try."

~~/~~

It didn't take Arya long to find Catelyn, she was in her room, packing, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Arya had let herself into the room when there had been no response to the knock and her mother pinned her with a hateful look. "Come to check that I'm packing?" She snapped.

"No," Arya sighed. "Sansa pointed out to me that I can't force you to love Alyssa, but _I_ love Alyssa, I have loved her from the moment she was born, I was the second person to hold her, the first after Maester Luwin. I've had to protect her from the moment she drew breath, Margaery rejected her for her silver hair, and Renly was… hesitant. I loved her long before I knew she was Gendry's. She's mine, she's _always_ been mine. Maybe it's not fair for me to expect you to understand that, but I do expect you to, because you're _my mother_. I love all of my children, from my silver-haired girl to my black haired boy. I… I won't use my children as a weapon against you, but I won't let you teach them hate either. I am a mother of five children, not four, and I will protect every one of them… I…" Her voice trembled. "Please don't make me have to protect them from you."

"Oh Arya," Catelyn muttered. "Seven have mercy, you are your father's daughter, aren't you? I… all the years I hid the truth of Robb and Bran from him, because I was afraid he wouldn't love them if he knew…" She sank onto her bed and put her head in her hands. "I've made such a mess of everything… I… I have three sons to three different men, thank the Maid that my Septa can't see me now." Catelyn started to cry.

"Had three sons." Arya whispered, Rickon's death still pained her. "I… I'm sorry I couldn't save Rickon."

Catelyn gave her a watery smile. "Rickon was a sweet boy," She said softly. "But I wasn't referring to him, in many ways you are your father's son, you're certainly everything that he wanted in a son… and yet you've given birth to four children… gods, Arya, you've had an entire summer's worth of children in one go… I don't want to leave because I'm terrified that the next pregnancy will kill you."

Arya took a deep breath. "You have to leave," She said softly, she knelt beside her mother and took her hands. "Lysa is in danger, and if you stay here you will be too, I'm sorry… I kept her part in Jon Arryn's murder secret as long as I could, and I killed Littlefinger for his part… but Renly finally worked it out."

"Sweet Petyr…" Catelyn muttered. "No…"

"Petyr acquired the Tears of Lys," Arya said softly, she tightened her grip on her mother's hands. "And he tricked and betrayed Father… I killed him for that, and I've never told anybody who put the drops in Jon Arryn's wine…"

Catelyn tried to pull away. "No, she wouldn't…"

Arya kept her grip firm. "Mother, let me show you."

She thought of Nymeria, of the heart tree at Winterfell, a moment later they were standing by the black pool. Catelyn looked around in disbelief, but Arya didn't have time, she looked at the tree and thought of what she needed to see. The first image was a garden that Arya didn't know, a young Catelyn and Lysa playing kissing games with a young Petyr Baelish… then it was the night of Catelyn's betrothal, they watched as Catelyn rebuffed Petyr and he proceeded to get so drunk that the Blackfish had to put him to bed… as Lysa snuck into his room and his bed… as he called out Catelyn's name, believing that it was her… suddenly it was the dual between Petyr and Brandon, Petyr begged Catelyn for a token, but she gave it to Brandon, and even Edmure betrayed Petyr, squiring for Brandon… how Petyr's heart lifted a little when Catelyn begged Brandon not to kill him… A seriously wounded Petyr, lying in isolation, waiting to be well enough to be cast out of Riverrun completely. He repeatedly begged to see Catelyn, but she never came… Lysa did though.

Lysa confronting her father, telling him that she was pregnant and begging to be allowed to marry Petyr… the Maester was sent for and moon tea was made. Lysa cried and screamed, begged and shoved the cup away. Her father struck her, more moon tea was made, her father held her down and forced her to drink it, but he made her drink too much, even when the Maester told him to stop he forced the liquid down her throat, she wore as much of it as she drank. Lysa was far enough along that it was a miscarriage, not an abortion. She was locked away and forced to give birth to the dead child, small enough to fit in one hand.

Various other scenes played out in rapid succession, the double wedding, Lysa to Jon Arryn and Catelyn to Ned. Various scenes during the war… Catelyn giving birth to Robb… Lysa standing over  
Robb's cradle, a pillow in her hands as if she was going to smother him, Catelyn asleep in the bed beside. But Catelyn muttered something in her sleep and Lysa lowered the pillow, instead using it to make Catelyn more comfortable. Catelyn's eyes opened and she caught Lysa's hand. _"My sweet baby sister."_ She muttered, then quickly drifted off back to sleep.

Then the visions moved to Petyr, and the slow change from the sweet but jealous boy to the conniving manipulator. Then back to Lysa again, scene after scene of Lysa's unhappy marriage, miscarriages and still births, many moments of Littlefinger comforting her. And then the day that Littlefinger gave her the poison. _"He's worked it out."_ He whispered urgently. _"In looking into Robert's bastards he accidently realised that Robin can't be his son, you have to protect our boy, Lysa, you have to!"_

 _"I can't."_ Lysa pleaded.

 _"Don't you love him?"_ Petyr replied. _"Don't you want your boy to be Lord of the Vale? Family, duty, honour, Lysa, family comes first. I'll be at your side soon enough, I promise."_

More scenes played out, but Catelyn was sobbing now and Arya tried to back out of the visions. It was like trying to damn a flood, they wouldn't stop…

The throne room, all of Father's men were dead and Littlefinger was holding the dagger that the assassin had tried to kill Bran with, pressing it against father's throat. _"I did warn you not to trust me."_ Littlefinger whispered, a smirking Cersei looking down at them… Littlefinger, Varys, and Grand Maester Pycelle standing over Sansa as Cersei sat opposite her. Cersei pressing a quill into her hand and telling her to write to her brother… Tobho Mott's forge, Gendry nervously stepping around Nymeria and Lady to put a cup of water beside a sleeping Arya…

The next set of visions was focused on Arya's passage through the Red Keep as she rescued her father, then Sansa… Suddenly the vision changed to one of Littlefinger's whore houses, a younger Arya curled up on the couch as Littlefinger spoke with Ros in a low voice. _"Win our little guest's trust,"_ he instructed. _"That little pup is very valuable to us, to me, if she trusts you she'll behave. I'll show Cat that she made the wrong choice, we'll show them all. I'm going to send the child to the Vale, convince Lysa to keep her there, I just need to generate a reason for the girl to be afraid enough to go willingly, I'll send you with her. The north will bend to us, they'll all bend to us, and that little wolf girl is how we're going to make them do it."_

Arya wanted it to stop, she didn't want her mother to watch her kill Littlefinger, but the visions wouldn't stop. Arya watched in shock as Littlefinger sent a runner to Stannis' men, telling them to come get baby Berra, it had all been part of his plan! He wanted Berra killed in front of Arya! Gods, and she'd played right into it by asking to see the child! Arya could do nothing but watch as Littlefinger gave the younger her the dagger, signalling the end of guest right and freeing him from his promise to protect her, the smirk that she hadn't been able to see as he'd ushered her into the room… Stannis' men were coming for the baby…

 _"Easy, little pup, I'll handle this."_ Littlefinger said turning towards the door.

 _"Uncle Petyr?"_ Arya said as she stepped closer, causing him to turn around. He turned to look at her and she slit his throat…

Suddenly they were back in Catelyn's room, Arya was kneeling on the floor, panting heavily, sweat pouring off of her. "I'm sorry…" She panted. "I tried to stop it sooner… I couldn't pull us out… sometimes the visions are like water when they hit, they won't stop until they've run their course." Her head was spinning. She placed both of her hands on the floor, trying to steady herself.

"Arya? Arya, you're shaking!" Her mother whispered.

Arya slowly raised her head to look up at her mother. "You needed to see." She whispered. "Warn Lysa, save her if you can, protect Robin if you can't, but you needed to see."

Catelyn stood up, poured a glass of water and held it to Arya's lips, Arya kept her hands on the floor but drank, her mother coaxed her to drink more but she pulled away. "Arya…"

"I'll be alright in a few minutes." Arya whispered. "I…" Once she felt stable enough she pushed herself to her feet. She swayed but her mother caught her. "I can't help Lysa." She said softly. "But maybe you can?"

"Lysa…" Catelyn muttered. "She was going to kill Robb, to smother him… if I hadn't…"

"Your father murdered her child." Arya whispered. "Gods, what would you have done if he'd done that to you? If he'd known that you had Brandon's child in your womb and hadn't been able to force Father to marry you…"

Catelyn sank back down on the bed. "Gods…" She whispered. "I… this is too much."

"I know." Arya agreed. "I'm sorry…"

"What exactly did you tell Renly?" Catelyn asked.

"That Littlefinger acquired the Tears of Lys, but that I can't prove who put the drops in his wine." Arya replied.

Catelyn frowned. "And that was enough for him to work it out?"

Arya nodded. "Yes."

"They can't have been very discreet then." Catelyn muttered. "Arya, is that really all you said?" Arya nodded again. Catelyn took a deep breath. "Okay, he can't prove anything then, he can only raise doubt about Robin's parentage and use that to suggest she _might_ have done it. If I can convince her to admit that Robin is Petyr's and to leave the Vale…" She stood up. "Right, I better finish packing."

"What are you going to do?" Arya asked.

"I'm going to talk to Uncle Brynden." Catelyn replied. "If anybody can sneak them out of the Vale it'll be him."

"Mother…" Arya said softly.

"I'll be careful." Catelyn replied. "Thank you for telling me _why_ you want me to leave, now go, get some rest, you look pale."

"Mother, I'm sorry." Arya whispered.

"I'm sorry you carried the burden alone for so long." Catelyn replied. "I wish you'd told me sooner, go, get some rest." She gave Arya a quick hug. "You didn't do anything wrong, now go."

~~/~~


	22. Chapter 98

Part 98:

They had spent two days on Driftmark, Mya had accompanied them, her Baratheon features made her stand out like a sore thumb on the island. She was wider in the shoulders than most of the men on the island, and a good head taller, and Arya noticed that Mya had started to stoop in an attempt not to tower over people. It wasn't so bad when Gendry was beside her, but as soon as they had arrived the Steward had pulled Gendry aside, wanting to speak with him privately. Monterys had taken to Mya instantly, and quickly asked Arya if she thought Shireen would grow as tall as Mya was. He'd seemed quite disappointed to be told that Arya didn't think so, the ten year old was not deflated for long though, he soon moved onto the subject that Roslin was his aunt now, and demanded to know if she was going to make him an uncle. Monterys wanted to be an uncle, it seemed, so that he could spoil the child the way Aurane spoiled him. Since Roslin was a Velaryon now Montreys insisted that she needed to know the island better. Mya, and Arya could only follow behind and smile as Monterys dragged Roslin around the island, his guards following at a respectable distance.

Hull stood in the shadow of Driftmark keep, north of High Tide, the city got its name from its shipyard, but there was so much more to it. Monterys knew every shop owner by name, and he introduced Roslin to each of them as 'Aurane's Roslin'. Sansa had stayed back at the Keep as she didn't feel it wise to drag a direwolf and a litter of puppies through a strange city, and Ella had stayed with her.

Almost everybody was short and slim shouldered, like Arya, most of the people on the street were men, all with fine, almost pointy, features and fair to light brown hair. Eye colours ranged from blue to green, to hazel, with the occasional hint of purple, there was not a brown eye in sight. One would have been forgiven for thinking that they had suddenly been transported to an old Valyrian fishing village. Mya began to stoop more and more as they walked, and Arya didn't know what to do about it, but thankfully she wasn't the only one that noticed. An old man with silver-white hair and cataracts in his seafoam green eyes approached Mya with a beach daisy in his hand, the daisy had a long stem and had started to bow over.

"Sweet lady, sweet, tall, lady." The man called out to her. Mya stopped walking and turned to the man, he held the flower out to her and smiled. "Sweet lady, I want you to have this." He said, clasping her hand. "See how it bows it's head, uncomfortable that it towers over other flowers? Let the flower stoop, stand tall and turn your face to the sun, you are beautiful, sweet lady, old eyes like mine do not mind looking up at you."

Mya blushed. "I…" She stammered.

The man smiled at her, he touched her chin gently and tilted it upwards. "Stand tall, sweet lady, put your shoulders back and stretch to the sun. Ah, that's better, were that I was a quarter of my age, that I might beg a kiss." Mya's blush deepened, but she leant over and dropped a kiss on the man's cheek. "Thank you, beautiful lady, you give an old man joy." He took her hand, dropped a kiss on it, then turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Mya called out. "I do not even know your name?"

The old man turned back to her and smiled. "A man is no one. Stand tall, beautiful lady, turn your face to the sun."

Arya felt her blood suddenly turn cold. _A man is no one._ Could it be coincidence? Or had that been a faceless man that had just given Mya the flower? The man stood tall and straight, despite his apparent age, and moved with graceful ease, but that was not so unusual for one of Valyrian decent. If it _was_ a faceless man was it Jaqen? Or somebody else? Why were they here? And why did they talk to Mya? Did they _want_ Arya to know that they were here? Were they following her? And if so, then why? Arya frowned, she suddenly found her thoughts wandering to the Acolyte, Pate, whom Marwyn had brought with him from Oldtown, the Hermit Crab, Marwyn had called him.

"I'll be back in a minute." She muttered, and followed after the old man, it didn't take long for her to catch up with him, it was almost as if he was waiting for her, she turned a corner and he was simply there.

"Princess Arya, I-"

"Hermit Crab." She blurted out.

The man smiled. "Very good." He replied.

"Jaqen, why are you following me?" She snapped.

"A man is not-" The man started to reply.

Arya cut him off again. "I know, I know. A man is not Jaqen H'ghar, Jaqen H'ghar is dead. A man had the privilege of being Jaqen H'ghar, and a man had the privilege of being Pate, and now a man has the privilege of being somebody else. What a girl does not understand is why all these people a man has the privilege of being keep crossing her path? What does a man want, and don't answer Valar Dohaeris!"

"A man want's answers to impossible questions." The man replied.

"A girl has seen imposable things, ask." Arya replied.

The man smiled. "Not here, a man will find a girl again, a man did not expect such a willingness to answer, perhaps a girl truly is a servant of the Many Faced God?"

"No." Arya replied calmly. "A servant does not ask questions, a girl has many questions. A girl has been blessed by Garth the Greenhand, and wears pearls gifted by the Merlings King. A Girl has stopped a shadow demon and chased a Red Witch through her own flames. A Girl knows the great wall will crumble this winter, although it still stands, and seen the face of the Night King, whom perverts death and steals from the Many Faced God. Death without rest, eternal slavery, when the first gift was given in the mines of Old Valyria it was not for this! So speak plainly and a plain answer will be given, what does a man want?!"

"Assurances that the rebirth of dragons will not lead to the rise of a new Valyria, more terrible than the old one." The man replied.

"I'm working on it!" Arya snapped. "But find yourself a copy of Ayrmidon's **_Engines of War_** if you wish to be completely sure. Winter is coming and I can only fight on so many fronts at once. If Daenerys becomes a problem I will deal with it, as for our three dragons, all I can do is be a good parent to my children and install in them how vile slavery is, might does not equal right, Shireen and Jon will do the same. Anything else?"

"How do you wake the dragons from stone?"

Arya frowned. "I don't know." She replied. "Why does everybody keep saying I woke the dragon eggs?" She frowned. "Why ask? Do you have an egg that needs waking?"

"If a man said yes?" The man replied.

"Then a girl would warn a man that she may be able to wake it, but a man whom is _no one_ could not hatch it as the egg would need to form a bond with _someone_. No one cannot be someone, a face is not enough. If a girl was given the egg and woke it, the egg would die unless _someone_ could be found to bond with it and hatch it. Does a man understand?"

"Yes." The man replied. "And a man is impressed by a girl's ability to comprehend."

Arya nodded. "Good. Now, a girl has a question: do the Faceless Men have any suggestions on how to defeat the Night King?"

"That is a good question." The man replied. "A man will attempt to answer it."

"A girl is thankful." Arya replied.

~~/~~

Arya was surprised that she had come to miss the smell of the sea and the spray of salt water in her face, it made a mess of her hair, and Elenei and Sansa had insisted she wear a headscarf, that they could make her hair presentable before arriving in port, but Arya didn't care. She stood near the rail and smiled as the first glimpse of Dragonstone came into view, she had been away from home for far too long.

The first noticeable thing about Dragonstone was the pale grey steam rising from the semi active volcano, Dragonmont, which had given birth to it. You would think that the volcano of a volcanic island would be at the centre of it, you would be wrong. Thousands of years of eruptions had shaped the island one bit at a time, but most of the rock that had spewed out of Dragonmont had been to the northeast, and some to the west, winds and tides had also shaped the island, Maester Polys claimed that Dragonmont was simply one of a chain of old volcanos that ran a curved line from Driftmark to Dragonstone, and that the islands had once been connected. Dragonmont was by far the tallest though, and the only one still making noise. Mind you, Pylos also claimed that the sea from the peninsula south of Duskendale through to Driftmark and Dragonstone had all been land once, that fishermen claimed petrified Weirwoods could still be found in the deepest parts of Blackwater Bay, and that Claw Island had once been connected to Crackclaw Point. Maybe he was right? Maybe the children had done far more than just break the Arm of Dorne when they had raised the Hammer of the Waters? Maybe all of the sea from Stonedance to The Whispers had once been forest? If that was so, then the children had done as much harm as the first men had, it was a strange thing to ponder.

A movement to her left drew Arya's attention, Dragonsteel was swooping down from the clouds, Gendry and Alyssa on his back, the boat moved too slowly for the dragon so Gendry was flying him around in circles, much to Alyssa's amusement. Arya lent on the rail of the boat to watch them for a while.

"Might I join you, Princess Arya?" A female voice asked nervously.

Arya smiled up at the taller woman, Mya's short black hair was windswept and blowing into her Baratheon-blue eyes. "Mya, don't call me Princess." She muttered. "You are my sister by law."

"Yet still a bastard." Mya replied softly.

Arya nodded. "True, but at least you're acknowledged now, though I guess that doesn't help much." Mya nodded. "Are you nervous?" Arya asked softly. "To meet the rest of the Caravan of the Yellow Lady, I mean?"

Mya gave her a half smile. "Do they really still call themselves that?" She questioned.

Arya nodded. "Yes, the Caravan of the Yellow Lady is the family we built when fleeing King's Landing." She answered. "You have other brothers and sisters, no doubt, likely many that I don't even know about, you have at least one brother, Orys, in Essos, he'd be about five now… maybe six? I can't tell you where he is, only that I told his mother to run and she listened. The Caravan of the Yellow Lady may be named after me, but it was built around Lucerys' family."

"Lucerys?" Mya frowned, as much as Arya and Gendry had told her what they could it was difficult for her to remember the details of the siblings she hadn't yet met. She'd met Elenei and Robar… and Renly had invited Edric Storm over from Storm's End for Alyssa's Name Day, so she'd met him too. Edric had declined the invitation to join them at Dragonstone, claiming that it wouldn't be fair on Mya, but that he would come visit in time.

Arya smiled, she watched as Dragonsteel skimmed low above the water, Alyssa squealing with delight. She explained about Luke's mother and aunt, how they were so accepting of everybody. She told Mya about Luke's two younger brothers, Cade and Adam, about his sister Aleena. Then she talked about Argella, sweet little Gally, about her sister, Mary, how she'd been a pregnant beaten woman with a baby in her arms when they'd found her. Arya talked about how Mary's husband had been more than happy to give Gally away, and how Arya and Gendry had insisted on taking Mary and baby Albin with them as well, about how Luke's mother and aunt had nurtured and supported Mary. Arya talked about Barra, and her mother, Mhaegen, about how Mhaegen had grown from whore to tailor… not that Arya had anything against whores, but Mhaegen had been a young girl, with few options, when she had become one.

As they drew closer to the island Arya sighed, they would be at port soon enough, it was time to change and submit to an elaborate hairstyle once again. At least she could wear her blades again now. "I'll leave you to enjoy the view," She told Mya. "I need to get ready for our arrival at port."

Mya gave Arya a soft smile and lent on the rail, taking in the wonders of Dragonstone, Arya gave her one last glance before hurrying below deck, she followed Mya's gaze, Mya was looking up at Dragonmont. Suddenly the unmistakeable shape of a dragon came into sight, but it wasn't Opal, the dragon was various shades of blue, in some places almost white, and had four legs, not two. Dagrau'r Rhosyn, she seemed longer than Arya remembered, the dragon curved and twisted, weaving through the cloud bank that almost constantly surrounded the peak of Dragonmont. Arya stood and watched for a while, a smile creeping across her face, Jon was home! But her smile quickly moved to a frown as she hurried below deck, why hadn't Gendry told her that Jon had returned?!

As the ship neared the port Gendry approached on Dragonsteel, the dragon did not quite land, but swooped low over the deck, Gendry jumping off with practiced ease, Alyssa in his left arm. The port was filled with ships, over full, there were great three hundred oared galleas' with striped hulls, purple sailed ships which could only be from Braavos, and even a single mighty swan ship, named 'Cinnamon Wind'. Arya felt suddenly nervous at the large crowd gathered at the docks, it was a perfect opportunity for a Faceless Man. Yet, if Jaqen had wanted her dead… there was little chance that she would still be alive. Stark, Baratheon, and Tyrell guards gathered around them, but it didn't help Arya's sense of unease, she barely managed to muster a smile for Gendry and Alyssa as they approached, Alyssa now on Gendry's shoulders.

"Ready for one last show?" Gendry asked as he hugged her.

Arya pulled a face, Gendry looked handsome as ever, he had taken to wearing the Baratheon yellow samite surcoat over his Valyrian chainmail regularly, and the four inch wide ruby encrusted Valyrian steel chainmail sash, although he had started wearing the sash over his left shoulder after Arya had pointed out that it would protect his heart that way. His hair was a mess, and Alyssa was busy making it worse. It didn't seem fair that he'd gotten to play on the back of a dragon whilst Arya had had to submit to Roslin, Elenei and Sansa fussing over everything from her hair to who would stand where and hold which babies.

"Oh thank goodness!" Sansa exclaimed as she approached. Arya pulled back from hugging Gendry and tried not to smirk, now it was his turn. "I thought you were going to stay on top of that dragon and leave us all in the lurch. Give Alyssa to me, Mother have mercy, I've got less than five minutes to make her look decent!" Lady and three of the puppies were chasing as Sansa's heals, one of them was Alyssa's puppy, Visenya, and as soon as Alyssa spotted the pup she immediately started trying to scramble down Gendry to get to it. "You're hair…" Sansa muttered with a sigh. "Roslin, see what you can do." She called over her shoulder, she scooped up Alyssa and walked away.

Gendry just stood there, his mouth open in shock. "Is she…?"

"Angry at you for not being here to help discuss every fine detail of our arrival home? Oh yes." Arya agreed, she did her best Sansa imitation. "Seriously, Arya, you're being selfish, this is the highlight of many of the common-folk's lives, the first time that they will get to see the Baratheon Quadruplets. Four babies at once is a miracle, a true blessing from the Mother. They need you to put on a show, to do anything less would be disrespectful."

Gendry sighed. "That bad?" Arya nodded. "So…"

"So we do what she asks, we hold whichever babies she tells us to, we put on a smile, and we get home as soon as physically possible." Gendry raised an eyebrow at her, causing her to frown. "What?"

He smiled. "That's the second time you've called Dragonstone home in under a minute." He replied.

Arya shrugged. "Well what else would I call it?"

He shook his head. "What about Winterfell?"

"Winterfell will always be in my heart," Arya replied. "I will always be connected to it, the Weirwood ensures that… but I said goodbye to it before coming south. Dragonstone is my home… I… the walls know me now… Aegon's garden knows me. I could spend the rest of my life there and still not know all of its secrets, still not know every grotesques and gargoyle that guards its walls, but that doesn't mean they don't know me."

Gendry shook his head, a bemused smile on his face. "Only a Stark would talk of stone as if it were a living thing."

"What makes you so sure it isn't?" Arya challenged. "When we Northerners speak of the old gods we are talking about the gods of stream, forest, and _stone_ , not just the gods of Weirwoods."

Gendry might have replied, but the ship was pulling into dock and Sansa was approaching. "Will you two stop yapping?" She asked, then she frowned. "Roslin didn't even get near you with a hairbrush, did she Gendry?"

Gendry shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Doesn't matter." He mumbled, he scooped Alyssa up and put her back on his shoulders, Alyssa giggled and immediately grabbed two handfulls of his hair. "Alyssa's staying on my shoulders, now, where do you want me and which babies do you want me to hold?"

Sansa sighed. "I want Alyssa with Brienne-"

"No." Gendry said firmly. "Not negotiating on that."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Fine, you're holding Toby and Renella, make sure their heads are supported, Arya is holding Lysana and Visarya, now move."

"Yes, Princess." Gendry replied with a smirk, he gave Arya a wink then followed Sansa, obediently standing where she wanted him to, ignoring that the toddler on his shoulders was alternately spiking and flattening his hair. Sansa carefully placed each of the babies in their arms, arranging them so that they could be seen and making sure their heads were supported. The babies were still tiny, even now they were little bigger than new-borns. Each baby had been bundled in a different coloured blanket. Toby's blanket was a golden yellow and Renella's was black as coal, Lysana's was Stark grey and Visarya's was white. Arya felt that Visarya's blanket should be purple, and Lysana's should be blue, but she understood what Sansa was trying to do. The two most Baratheon looking children were getting the Baratheon colours so the other two got the Stark colours.

People waved and cheered as the boat docked, nobles, common-folk, merchants, and Freefolk stood shoulder to shoulder. They disembarked by foot, guards surrounded them, but stayed far enough back so as not to obscure people's view, the rest of the ship began to slowly unload behind them. Arya noticed Tormund among the crowd as she walked towards the waiting horses and carriages, she saw other faces that she knew as well. Ser Davos and Shireen were waiting at the end of the dock, the black and white carriages behind them, Galen was amongst the guard that stood behind them… but no Jon.

As Arya looked up the street that led up the hill from the port she realised that it was lined with people, hundreds of them, all struggling for a glimpse, the guards struggling to hold them back. Ser Davos opened the door of the white carriage for her but she stood there and frowned, shaking her head, it felt wrong to hide away inside the carriage when all these people had come out to greet them, and she said as much. After some discussion it was decided that Arya would sit at the front of the carriage, beside the driver, and Gendry would do the same on the black carriage. It took much juggling of babies to get them up there, but somehow they managed it.

The trek from the port to the castle was slower than a walk, the guards constantly having to clear their path, and Arya's arms were aching by the time the gargoyles that topped the walls of Dragonstone came into view. But the babies would only get heavier, and it was a discomfort that she would have to become accustomed to for public occasions. Soon enough the gates were thrown open and they were inside the comfort of the fort.

Eleven year old Lucerys was there to greet them, along with his nine year old sister, Aleena, two brothers, Cade, who was ten now, and Adam, who was almost eight. Their Mother and Aunt were also there and both eagerly took a baby each into their arms as Arya and Gendry prepared to dismount from the carriages. Arya introduced them to Mya, this was a good greeting for Robert's oldest daughter, to see that at least one woman had pulled a family together in his absence. Yet all the while Arya's eyes scanned for Jon, he was nowhere to be seen, and Galen was busying himself with helping unloading, it seemed impossible to pull him aside and ask questions. There was also no sign of Aurane or Derren.

Sansa disembarked from one of the carriages, Lady and her pups surrounding her as she looked up at castle Dragonstone for the first time. Sansa frowned. "It's quite… It's very arrogant, isn't it?" She muttered. "It's kind of ugly…"

Arya groaned. "Sansa, it's not ugly, just because it's not terraced gardens surrounded by leagues and leagues of golden roses, it's beautiful."

Sansa arched an eyebrow at that. "Beautiful?" She questioned. "It's all stone!"

"Diamonds and opals are stones as well," Arya replied. "And you think they're beautiful."

Sansa sighed. "Well, I suppose my opinion doesn't matter, you're the one that has to live here… I'm glad you like it."

Arya smirked. "Wait until you see the rooms I'm putting you in, then you'll change your mind."

Nine year old Argella met them at the top of the stairs, along with her older sister, Mary, and Mary's children, Albin, who was five now, and Arya, who was nearly three. Albin had lost his first baby tooth, and showed it to Arya proudly. Arya smiled and suggested they plant the tooth in Aegon's Garden. Four year old Berra and eighteen month old Eldrick ran towards them as they entered the Keep, Mhaegen and Ygritte behind them, baby Bennard in Ygritte's arms. Alyssa let go of Arya's hand and ran towards Berra and Eldrick, the pup, Visenya, at her heals. Alyssa showed the direwolf pup off proudly, much to the other children's delight.

Ghost suddenly came bounding around the corner! Arya juggled Visarya in one arm and caught the pup, Visenya, in the other, ending up on her knees in the process. Ghost sniffed the pup curiously, then licked Arya's hand, he sniffed the baby next. Suddenly somebody was reaching down for Visarya, Brienne. Arya offed her a thankful smile and patted Ghost, grateful that he didn't show any aggression towards Alyssa's pup. She let go of the pup and sank her hands into Ghost's fur, burying her head in his neck. So soft, so strong, so warm… she couldn't do this with Lady, and Nymeria was so far away. Ghost pressed his forehead against hers and she gave him a good scratch under his jaw. She pulled back with a smile on her face, she expected to see Jon standing there, smiling down at her… but he wasn't. She looked around, waiting for Jon to come around the corner, if Ghost was here then surely Jon was, Jon would never have left Ghost behind! But Jon was nowhere to be seen… slowly her smile slipped into a confused frown, she raised questioning eyes towards Ygritte. "Where..? Where is Jon?"

~~/~~


	23. Chapter 99

Part 99:

"Where..? Where is Jon?"

Ygritte gave Arya a sad smile. "Come, I'll take you to him."

Arya was vaguely aware of Ghost going past her to greet Sansa and Lady, and sniff the other puppies, she half noticed Gendry and Davos exchanging a concerned look, but her mind was on one thing and one thing only, Jon. They walked in silence, Ygritte hugging Bennard tightly, she'd left Eldrick with the others. Arya wanted to ask what had happened, what was going on, but Ygritte's silence scared her. Was Jon hurt?! Had something bad happened? Worse… was Jon… dead? The longer the silence stretched out the more fearful Arya became. But Jon couldn't be dead, Gendry would have told her, and surely if Jon was injured… No, if Jon was injured he would have asked Gendry to keep it from her, he would have known that she'd have forced the issue about coming back sooner, even if it put the babies at risk… that was just like Jon… She took a deep breath and steadied herself as they rounded the corner to the room that Ygritte and Jon shared.

Derren was standing silently at the door, his pot-marked face drawn with worry. Arya wanted to ask why he was guarding Jon, but before she asked her question she already had her answer. His eyes were sad, tired, and apologetic. He was standing guard on Jon because that was what Arya needed him to do. "Yellow Lady." He whispered.

"How bad?" Arya sked.

Derren shook his head, some of his light brown hair falling into his eyes. "Bad." He replied, still keeping his voice to a whisper. "He is in a lot of pain, Aurane is sitting with him… we've been taking turns… I… we failed you. We failed to secure the dragons, and we failed to protect Isaeyan."

Arya shook her head. "No, you brought him home, you didn't fail." She replied, her gaze turned to Ygritte. "Are you coming in?"

Ygritte shook her head. "No, I'll help settle the children, Gendry says Visarya's quite fussy, would you mind if I see if she'll take milk from me?"

"Ygritte, you have Bennard to worry about." Arya replied.

Ygritte smiled at her. "Let me try, Arya, you have a habit of finding trouble." Arya nodded, Ygritte opened the door quietly and for a moment Arya hesitated, then she took a deep breath and walked into the room.

The room was warm, no hot, and the air was punctuated with the fragrances of honey, myrrh, and oats. The first thing she noticed was Aurane, he was sitting beside the bed. His hair was cut short and his beard was gone, there were red blotchy marks up the left side of his neck and face and half of his left eyebrow was mostly missing. She forced her gaze to move to the bed, Jon was propped up with nearly a dozen cushions, his blankets only covered him to his waist. His right arm was screeched out on pillows and wrapped in bulky bandages, as was his right shoulder and part of his chest, the oaty salve weeping through the silk. His beard had also been shaved and his hair had been cut a lot shorter, surprisingly the short tight curls made him look more like Robb. There were some light burns on his right side of his face, nothing that would not heal, but they looked painful, like his beard had been set on fire. She knew he had to have heard her enter the room, but his eyes were shut, his jaw clenched as if he was in immense pain.

"Jon." She whispered.

Jon struggled to open his eyes, he tried to sit up, winced at the movement, then started to cough. Aurane helped him bring a cup of water to his lips, but remained silent. "Hey." He finally muttered.

"What happened?" Arya asked softly.

Jon gave her a heartbroken smile. "We… found my aunt." He replied quietly. He coughed, and Aurane steadied him again, in that moment, with them both clean shaven, Arya realised that their face shapes were remarkably similar, oh Aurane had the dimpled chin, and Jon's face was longer, but they both had the same strong cheekbones, the same narrowness to their faces, the same jawline… Perhaps Jon's features were more Valyrian than anybody really realised?

As the silence stretched out Arya realised that Jon wasn't volunteering any more explanation. "W-what do you mean, you found your aunt?"

The expression on Jon's face could only be described as 'heartbreak'. "We found her, in the Dothraki Sea…" He whispered. "We… thought she needed to be rescued… she didn't… and she didn't appreciate the help."

"Jon…" Arya whispered. "Isaeyan…"

"Don't use that name." Jon whispered. "I'm not a Targaryen, not a dragon, not really." He gestured towards his injuries. "Dragon's don't burn." He whispered.

Arya's jaw dropped in shock… Jon's bandages were covering _burns_?! Her eyes moved to Jon's bandages, his entire right arm, his right shoulder… half his torso. Even a little burn hurt, yet it looked as if close to a fifth of Jon's body had been burnt. "She _burnt_ you?!" She whispered in horror.

Jon nodded, his face crumbling into despair. "Yes," He whispered. "My aunt, a woman that in different circumstances I might have loved, tried to burn me alive." He whispered, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Arya shook her head, as if denying that it had happened could change it. "I'll kill her." She whispered.

"Arya," Jon started to protest.

"I'll kill her!" Arya replied more firmly. "I… if I could get Visarya to feed from anybody else… maybe I'll just have to take her with me."

"See." Aurane muttered softly. "Arya sees things as they are." He balled his hands into fists. "Let me go back to the Golden Company, we've gained their respect by returning Rolly's sword, let me-"

"No." Jon replied firmly. "Aurane, your wife needs you, and Arya, you're not putting any of your children's lives at risk for me, that's why I wouldn't let Gendry tell you."

"She tried to burn you alive!" Arya exclaimed. "She tried to kill you, Jon! She killed her brother! She's a Kinslayer!"

"Yes, and if your going after her causes Visarya's death you'll be a Kinslayer too!" Jon snapped. "I'll be a kinslayer for letting you go! I… part of me doesn't even blame her, Essos is a harsh place… it's not her fault… she… you don't understand what she's suffered, we always knew she might be sceptical of our intentions, her entire life, everything has been taken from her, everybody has betrayed her. I was stupid to go there believing that she would trust me. Please, Arya, promise me you won't do anything rash, your children need you. And she is trying to do good, she is trying to end slavery."

Arya just looked at him in shock, the insanity of his words leaching all of the rage out of her. "Jon," She said softly. "By that same argument it wouldn't be your fault if you slaughtered Robb, Sansa, Bran, Rickon and me in our sleep simply because our mother treated you poorly."

"Arya, that's a terrible thing to say! I'd never do something like that!" Jon exclaimed.

"No, you wouldn't." Arya agreed. "But if you had, if you'd killed us all, killed my mother, killed our father, and tried to claim Winterfell for your own, who could blame you? That's what mother always feared you'd do. But you didn't, because you know the difference between right and wrong, because you're a good person despite all the shitty things that have happened to you. What Daenerys has suffered is not an excuse!"

"I need it to be." Jon whispered. "Arya, please, let me have an excuse… my aunt tried to murder me, I need a reason." More tears ran down his cheeks. "It doesn't need to be a good reason… I just need one."

~~/~~

Arya stood at the end of the Room of the Painted Table, looking out of the middle of the five arches, she couldn't remember climbing the stairs of the Storm Drum, couldn't remember crossing the room, but somehow she was here. Angry and conflicted, standing in the place where many a Targaryen had stood pondering similar decisions, but there was no dragon standing on the platform outside of that arch waiting for her to mount it and take on her enemies. Daenerys, Daenerys was her enemy, as sure as the Night King was. Daenerys wanted fire and blood, and Arya wanted to give it to her. She wanted to go to Essos, to find Daenerys, and slit her throat… but she couldn't. A single tear ran down her cheek, Arya wasn't one to cry, not often, but there was a flood if pain threatening to drown her. She'd done this, one way or another, the changes she'd made had led to Jon being burnt by his aunt… she let out a sob of frustration, if only she had a dragon…

 ** _She heard screeching overhead and looked up to see the black Cyvasse piece that represented Drogon flying off…_**

A movement caught her attention and she turned her head, wings in the distance… Arryn! How had the small bird managed to fly so high? It flew over the platform and hoped onto the landing, looking up at her.

 ** _Arryn flew up into the sky, and as she saw from its eyes she picked the best path and started leading them towards the central pyramid…_**

She reached out her hand and the small kestrel flew in the arch landed and on her wrist, cocking his head and asking for a scratch, she scratched his head and neck gently. She had wings, just not wings strong enough to carry her across the Narrow Sea. "What have you been up to while I've been away?" She asked softly.

No sooner had she spoken the words than images of the children of the Caravan of the Yellow Lady playing flooded her mind, images of Aegon's Garden, images of Dreamers Cove. Arryn had been watching over her family. A small smile began to tug at her lips, but then she got another image, of Meereen, Arryn sawing above the walls to find the best path back to the central pyramid, watching Arya take out attacker after attacker with her dagger. From the kestrel's point of view Arya faded in and out of focus, sometimes almost completely invisible, sometimes almost completely solid. Arryn flew lower, and through his eyes Arya could see herself smiling at Grey Worm as she slit another throat. Grey Worm tried to catch her wrist but his hand went right through her. The image quickly changed from Meereen to a Cyvasse board… **_The Cyvasse piece that represented Drogon flew towards her and landed on the top of the Meerenesse pyramid, holding his alabaster base in one talon and looking directly at her…_**

Arya shook her head in shock and the Room of the Painted Table came back into focus. Arryn squawked and launched himself back into the air, he flew away from her, back out of the arch, and was soon gone. Arya shook her head again, but she couldn't clear it, the alabaster base looked so loose in Drogon's claw… She turned around to look at the room, the chairs had been returned to the table, they were the original chairs, the ones that Aegon the Conquer had designed, one was taller than the others, a raised seat, positioned near Dragonstone, that allowed one to view the entire map, something drew her towards that seat. The table was more than fifty feet long, over twenty five feet wide at its widest point, but only about four feet at its narrowest. Arya remembered how impressive it had seemed the first time she had seen it, but she'd hidden her awe then, they'd been in a war, and she'd been fighting her own battle, trying to be seen as more than simply a little girl, trying to be taken seriously. Today she allowed herself the luxury of taking the table in.

She let her fingers drift over Eastwatch, the islands of Skagos had not been included, and a for a moment she stood where they should be, she noticed that many of the islands were missing, they had not been Aegon's focus at the time, Bear island had been included but none of the Iron Islands. As she walked around the table her hand drifted over Karhold, Widow's Watch, The Sisters had been included, that was interesting. She stopped at the Fingers and turned to face the carvings on the wall, trying to picture how Essos fitted in. To her surprise the answer was already there! From a distance the carving on the wall was simply intricate playing dragons, but the shapes of the dragons formed half of Essos! One dragon's leg curved around to form the bay that marked Pentos, the curve of the same dragon's head showed the river north of Myr, another dragon head's mouth spit fire in the shape of the islands of Tyrosh and the Stepstones… She continued to walk around the table until she was at the raised chair, she turned the chair around, so that it was facing the hidden map on the wall, and mounted it, thankful of the built in steps. She mapped out Lys, Volantis, a mass of swilling dragon flames showed the ruins of Valyria. Her eyes travelled up from that, no, _East_ from that, and found the Gulf of Greif… then up the high wall to Meereen. That was where Daenerys would go, to collect her Unsullied and acquire boats. Arya had to stop her before that happened, but how? She frowned as she looked at the map, her hands tracing over the black wooden arms of the chair… black like the trees in Aegon's Garden… a splinter caught her fingertip, causing a sharp pain… but the arms of the chair were smoothly polished… she frowned, looking down at the chair, she couldn't see where the splinter had come from, but there it was, in her fingertip, all the same. She squeezed her fingertip, drawing out the splinter and a drop of blood, it was only as the blood hit the stone floor that she felt the pull of the room's magic and realised what she had done…

~~/~~

The Cyvasse board was empty apart from Arya and the piece that represented Drogon, Drogon was standing on one foot, the other holding the Alabaster base up in the air, watching her. Arya had another base in her hands, dragon glass with a ring of Dragonsteel around it, she studied the base frowning. It some ways it looked like a coin, a faded face on it, she let go of it with her right hand and turned it over, thinking more and more that it was like a coin, and as the thought grew stronger the base started to shrink, until it was indeed the size of a coin, all the while the piece representing Drogon watched her. She placed the base/coin in the palm of her right hand, still studying it, she looked up at Drogon again, the dragon was waiting to see what she would do.

Should she try and rip the Alabaster base away, try and replace it with her own? How would that even work? She wasn't a Targaryen, has no known Valyrian blood in her veins, she'd always wanted a dragon, but that meant little. "A dragon is not a pet." She whispered, she met the dragon's gaze, lifted her chin, and tossed the base/coin aside. "A dragon is not a tool, not a weapon, not a slave. What do you want from me?"

The Cyvasse piece that represented Drogon let go of the Alabaster base and it shattered into dozens of pieces as it hit the Cyvasse board. That the dragon started to shrink, until it was as small as a kestrel, as it shrank it flapped its wings and started to fly at her, she lifted her left wrist, as she had for Arryn, and the bird-sized dragon landed on it, cocking its head like it wanted a scratch. She scratched its head, its neck, the line between its wings. The dragon flew off of her wrist and flew around her, growing bigger and bigger as it flew. As Arya raised her head she saw open blue sky above her, the sun brighter and hotter than she'd ever known, one moment she was watching a Cyvasse piece, the next it was the real Drogon. A voice caused her to lower her gaze, she realised she was standing on a large red rock cliff, a red wasteland of dessert all around her. Tens of thousands of Dothraki filled the cannon below. Drogon landed, not far from Arya, Daenerys on his back, Daenerys seemed completely unaware of her, but Drogon was looking straight at her. Daenerys started to address the horde in Dothraki, yet, by some magic, Arya understood the words.

"Every Khal who ever lived choose three blood riders to fight beside him and guard his way. But I am not a Khal, I will not choose _three_ blood riders, I choose you all!" Daenerys yelled.

The horde of Dothraki cheered, yelled, and screamed, why shouldn't they? They were following somebody with a dragon... but the dragon was looking Arya in the eye, begging her to stop it. She cleared her voice and spoke, but as she opened her mouth the words came out in Dothraki, not the common tongue. "I challenge you, _kinslayer_ , get off of that dragon and fight me, prove you are worthy."

Daenerys looked down at her in shock. "W-who are you?" She asked.

Arya smiled. "I am Arya Stark, and I am not happy about what you did to my cousin, your nephew, come down and face me, unless you are afraid."

"I'm not afraid." Daenerys snapped. "Dragons don't burn-"

"Prove it." Arya cut her off. "Get off of Drogon and order him to burn you."

"I don't have to." Daenerys snapped. "I am-"

"A liar?!" Arya questioned. "You know that dragon fire is hotter than normal flame, that what you did was not a fair test. Drogon's fire would burn you, just like it did Isaeyan."

"No, it wouldn't." Daenerys snapped.

"Prove it." Arya replied.

Daenerys met her gaze, and held it, she nodded once, then dismounted from the dragon. "I'm going to kill you," She told Arya quietly. "But for the sake of my followers I'll prove my point first." She took a few steps away from Arya and looked up at Drogon. "Dracarys." Drogon did nothing. "Dracarys!" She yelled. "Drogon, try and burn me." The dragon still did nothing.

"The dragon has doubt." Arya said softly. "Mayhap you should not do this?"

Daenerys glared at Arya, then retuned her attention to Drogon. "Dracarys!" She yelled. "Dracarys, Dracarys, Dracarys!" Still the dragon did nothing.

"Dracarys." Arya whispered. Drogon opened his mouth and unleashed wave after wave of fire, Daenerys didn't burn at first, her clothes did, then her hair, but Drogon did not stop, suddenly Daenerys started to scream, but the flames kept coming wave after wave, like an unrelenting tide, until Daenerys was dead. Drogon then turned his head in Arya's direction, she reached up and touched his face. A blink, and they were suddenly back on the Cyvasse board. "Is that what you wanted? Freedom?" Arya asked. The Cyvasse piece blinked, then turned its head to where Arya had thrown the base/coin on the board, the base grew back to its original size, the dragon looked at her expectantly. Arya frowned, she knew she needed to do something, but what? Did she try and put the base on him? Or try and mount him?

Suddenly she heard the sound of a baby crying, she turned her head and saw the back of a rocking chair, Ygritte's distinctive red hair spilling over the back of it. "Shh," Ygritte whispered. "Come on, Visarya, I know you're hungry, feed for Aunty Ygritte."

Visarya continued to cry, the sound causing an instinctive response in Arya, she felt the wetness as her breasts started to drip milk, she glanced back at Drogon, she wanted to claim him, but how long would it take? Visarya needed her now! Drogon lent forward and sniffed her chest as the wetness became more apparent, she touched his head gently, then pushed it away. "Visarya needs me." She whispered. She turned away from the dragon and took a step towards the chair… and found herself back in the Room of the Painted table.

~~/~~


	24. Chapter 100

**A/N: sorry for the long delay! I tried doing a time jump, but it failed miserably, no matter what I did I just couldn't make it feel right, there were just too many lose ends to skip forward a couple of years. Jon's injury, the Vale situation… background thinks I can only hint at… but I think I've got my mojo back. Hope you enjoy… please pay very careful attention to what Bran does, and does not, say.**

Part 100:

It was over four moons since Catelyn had left Summerhall, one moon since Arya had returned to Dragonstone, yet neither Arya nor Sansa had heard a word from their mother. Sansa was worried, but Arya understood the need to stay hidden, especially considering what their mother was attempting, she only hoped that Aunt Lysa could be reasoned with. Renly had reluctantly agreed to help buy some time, keeping Yohn Royce occupied with other matters, it had been agreed that after Arya returned to Dragonstone Tyrion would have a quiet chat with Yohn Royce about it not being possible for Robin to be an Arryn, but very possible that he was Littlefinger's. Tyrion would talk Yohn Royce through how they believed Jon Arryn had unintentionally uncovered the truth through his investigation into Robert's bastards, and reveal Lysa's prior pregnancy to Littlefinger when they were young.

Ros had found proof of the tears of Lys being brought in for Littlefinger, that was the only actual evidence they had, but there was enough circumstantial evidence to suggest Lysa had _some_ role in Jon Arryn's death without actually making the acquisition. There was nothing to gain by talking about Arya's memories from the other life, the Bronze Yohn was far too sensible to listen to stories about what some young girl dreamt she remembered, even a Stark girl, Tyrion had promised to leave Arya completely out of the conversation. Tyrion seemed confident that he could paint things in a way that would free the Vale from Lysa's selfish inaction without getting her killed, Arya wasn't so sure. She knew that she should care what happened to her aunt, but she honestly didn't, the woman was a stranger whom would have happily killed Sansa in the other life, if only she weren't blood…

There was still no news from the North, Arya wasn't so surprised at no raven, but even when she tried to reach out to Robb or Bran in her dreams it didn't work. She even tried getting Sansa and Lady to help her, but to no avail, they might have asked Jon to help if he hadn't been such a mess. Sansa's original plan had been to stay a couple of weeks to help Arya and the children settle, then go north with the next shipment of dragon glass and weapons, but now she was torn between staying for Jon, or going North. Tobho had brought in other highly skilled Master Blacksmiths from Essos to help work the new metal into weapons, Arya didn't know the details of the arrangements, and the new faces made her uneasy, but she did have to admit that it had greatly increased the speed of weapon production. Even so, Gendry still spent more time in the forge than anywhere else.

Jon was still mostly bed-ridden, he'd never let Arya or Sansa be there when the bandages were changed, so they still didn't know the full extent of his injuries. He would come and sit with them now and then in Aegon's Garden, Dagrau'r Rhosyn rushing to great him every time he stepped outside, but his pain was impossible to ignore. (It was somehow worse that he bore it all in silence.) Eventually the weapons shipment was ready to leave and Sansa had to make a decision, Jon encouraged her to go, if Robb wasn't back then Wynafryd might really need a Stark at her side. And if Robb _was_ back then somebody needed to remind him that his siblings were worrying about him. Sansa reluctantly agreed to go, but only after promising both Arya and Jon that she'd be back to check on them soon. She hugged Arya tightly, then gave Jon a careful hug before leaving, her smile failing to hide the worry in her eyes.

Arya's days were full to bursting, the line of noble visitors didn't seem to be slowing down, and the more nobles came to see the children, to offer well wishes and gifts, the more Gendry seemed to hide in the forge. Arya often found herself taking court alone, Gendry seemed more than happy to take a step back, but he was more present than most knew: Dragonsteel always seemed to be waiting for Arya when she went to court, the dragon would lead her in and take his place to the right of the throne, curling up against the impressive stone wall with his head within patting distance. Arya had never attempted to give Dragonsteel a direct order, she didn't know if he'd obey, but she knew he'd protect her.

Since the children were often a topic of interest to the visiting nobles and merchant princes she started bringing them to court, along with her small army of servants and wet nurses. Alyssa's direwolf pup, Visenya, was growing quickly, and was as protective of the quadruplets as of Alyssa, growling and raising her heckles if anybody came too close or moved too quickly… or raised their voice. Many an arrogant old Lord suddenly found a direwolf growling at him, and a dragon looking at him like he might be dinner, when he demanded to be heard by the _Prince of Dragonstone_ , not his _wife_. But, with Dragonsteel's help and Ser Davos at her side, Arya quickly stamped her authority on the court.

Things were still stressed between Arya and Gendry, they slept in the same bed, but Arya had to get up many times during the night to see to Visarya, and Gendry was often gone before Arya awoke. They had stopped breaking their fasts together, and Gendry often skipped supper, Arya would often fall asleep on the couch, the chamomile tea going cold, as she waited up for him. She'd often wake up to Gendry gently carrying her to bed and tucking her in with an apologetic kiss. Arya understood that Autumn was drawing on, that Winter was only two or three years away, she understood that no matter how many weapons they made it might not be enough, but she missed her husband. The honest truth was that they hadn't been intimate since before she had left for the Reach and Samwell's wedding, and the more time stretched on, the more Arya started to believe that Gendry was still angry at her. Or maybe he just wasn't attracted to her anymore now that she'd had children?

Five and a half moons after the children were born, two moons after Arya and the children had returned to Dragonstone, Arya broke down in tears and confided all of her insecurities to Jon. He hugged her, like he'd done when she was a child, ruffled her hair and kissed her forehead. He promised her that Gendry loved her, and that she just needed to talk to him. Ghost cuddled into her as well. One moment they were sitting in Jon's room, Ghost trying to wrap around both of them, the next they found themselves sitting in the Winterfell Godswood, and the base of the Weirwood, Nymeria at Arya's feet.

Arya pulled away from Jon and Ghost, wrapping her arms around her direwolf. "Hey. girl, how's that pack of yours?" Nymeria nuzzled against her cheek then licked her face.

"Arya?" A familiar voice greeted her, she looked up at Bran, he was standing near the Heart Tree, his expression unreadable.

"Bran? You're home?" Arya asked, she crossed the short distance and hugged him fiercely. Bran half-heartedly hugged her back, causing her to pull back and study him, this was the Bran that she remembered from near the end... detached, broken, distracted. But at least here he could stand, gods, he was taller than father now! She swallowed thickly as the reality set in. "Sumer's dead, isn't he?"

"Yes." Bran replied quietly, his eyes showing nothing.

"Gods, Bran," Jon muttered. "I'm so sorry."

Bran looked at Jon with emotionless eyes for a few seconds, then sadness crossed Bran's face. "Daenerys did that to you, didn't she? The burns… only a true dragon could survive dragon fire."

"Bran… what's wrong with you?" Jon asked, taking a step closer.

Arya caught Jon's arm. "He's… not exactly Bran anymore, he's the Three Eyed Raven now."

Jon frowned at Arya, then at Bran. "What does that even mean?"

Arya sighed. "It means he's mostly lost in the past, his connection to the Weirwoods, it's overwhelming, he needs to learn to control it, but he will. I… this is how he came back in the other life too… loosing Summer, I think it makes it harder."

"Meera said I died in that cave," Bran whispered. "In some ways I think she's right."

"Bran…" Jon closed the gap between them and hugged Bran tightly. "Gods you're tall."

"Not so tall when I'm awake." Bran replied softly. "I… hate being trapped in that broken body." His brow furrowed. He pulled back from Jon and returned his attention to Arya. "Hodor's dead too… and Jojen Reed… I… couldn't save them… even knowing what was going to happen… I couldn't change it… we can't change it… Arya, we're going to lose."

Arya shook her head. "No, don't say that! We've already changed so much! We'll fix it, we have to fix it, and if we fail… I'll go back again! We've saved Father, we've saved Robb and Grey Wind, we've saved Lady, and Mother… we'll keep tying, again and again, until we defeat the Night King!"

Bran looked at her sadly and shook his head. "You don't understand…" He said softly. "He… I can't fight him much longer… he's stronger than me…" Suddenly all expression drained from his face. "You have to go, now, both of you." He jerked his head in Jon's direction. "Before _he_ sees you."

Arya grabbed Bran's arm, jerking the sleeve up. "He marked you again, didn't he?" As she looked at the arm she saw the red mark shaped like a handprint. "I'm not going to let the Night King win." She promised.

Bran regarded her with emotionless eyes. "No… the Night King won't win." He said softly. "A thousand eyes and one… you'll stop him," Bran's gaze moved to Jon, his face remaining emotionless. "One of you will, I… I've seen it in the trees… you are my grey wolves now, you'll help me stop the Night King… and… when it's done… the wrong will be put right… the treason… no less vile because the traitor proves a craven… go, both of you… there is much to prepare."

"Bran?" Jon repeated, confused.

"Go!" Bran repeated.

A moment later Arya found herself back in Jon's room, Jon and Ghost beside her. "Did Bran just…?"

"He sent us away." Jon muttered. "I… gods, what's wrong with him?"

Arya just shook her head and sighed. "Going north of the Wall," She said softly. "It changed him… I… he wouldn't talk about it in the other life… but Robb and Sansa are there, they'll help him… it's happened sooner this time, he has more time to adjust."

~~/~~


End file.
